


The Domino Effect

by Darksinner666



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drug and Alcohol use/abuse, Enough war crimes to have my OC tried and executed multiple times over, Morally Ambiguous Character, Pervasive Language, Some Sexual Violence, Strong Graphic and Bloody Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 178,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25327990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksinner666/pseuds/Darksinner666
Summary: Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...
Comments: 62
Kudos: 20





	1. Of Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of my story originally on FFN.net. The title and username are the same if you are interested in seeing the full work there. Check for The Domino Effect by Darksinner666 (my account name) on FFN/net.  
> The purpose of this rewrite is because I am not overly satisified with how I have structured the story, particularly my dialogue choices in the early chapters. I also have wanted to try AO3 for a long time, but have never gotten around to it, so I will be posting my rewrite exclusively here for now to trial things out.  
> I will leave the original posted on FFN.net so you can check it out and see what changes I have made, as well as make recommendations. Post your feedback either here, on FFN.net or in the PMs, and I'll try to get to it when I can.  
> I will focus on the rewrite only, and once it is done, then I will continue to update my story as normal.  
> I hope you enjoy. :D

**Chapter 1: Of Angels and Demons**

The sound of a single piano, gentle and tranquil in melody, resonated out from the bar. The patrons had long since left, leaving only the barkeeper to silently listen to the lone performer as he wiped and polished the few remaining mugs and glasses.

The eerie darkness of the night bled into the room, and, coupled with the scarce golden lamps within the barroom, further accentuated the haunting sound of the melodious solo performance.

Slowly, the solo performer increased the tempo of the song, as he struck each key true to the original melody.

The piece was a timeless masterpiece, or at least in his opinion. A remnant from a bygone era. _Moonlight Sonata_. Even the name sounded mystical and nostalgic to him. And him? Well, his name was far from mystical and nostalgic, hell, he could hardly even remember his real name.

Sharp features bare of any skin imperfection defined an otherwise flawless face, while dark brown hair slicked back with gel helped finish presenting a mature visage of someone appearing in their early thirties. And yet, his fashion choice was not representative of the modern fashion trends of the 22nd century. After all, suits and tuxedoes were only worn by the wealthy such as the corporate elite and CEOs.

And yet, here sat a man who did not identify with the supposed social elite of modern society, adorned in entirely black attire save for a red tie with faint patterned embroidery fit snugly around his neck.

A polished black boot, custom -made, rested over the sustain pedal to prolong a particular key struck.

Black, leather-gloved hands began to dance on the piano as he transitioned to the next movement of the song, every now and then the amber lights of the room reflecting off of the engraved gold and silver cufflinks.

Suddenly, the bar-door opened, accompanied by its usual creak. The pianist could hear the light, dull thud of footsteps on the hardwood floor approach him, almost reaching his back, before stopping.

The sound of wood scraping against wood briefly cut into the song, but just as quickly, it was over, followed by the soft sound of somebody sitting down.

Without bothering to acknowledge the newcomers presence, the pianist continued his performance.

As he picked up his pace, he could hear the newcomer gently tapping his hands to his legs in synch with the song. Even the barkeep temporarily stopped to watch the solo performance, mesmerised by absolute beauty of both the song itself and the performer's skill. As the performer closed his performance with the gentle outro, gentle clapping could be heard from the direction of the newcomer, followed shortly by the barkeep, who then resumed cleaning.

As the pianist began to slowly close the lid on the piano, the newcomer spoke, the alluring German-accented voice belonging to a male.

"I always appreciated music, as you do. Not many people know how to appreciate it these days. Instead, people would rather listen to screeching metal, and awful howls of false wind, claiming it to be music. Not you though. Despite what I might think about you, I can still appreciate good talent. Your performance, Mr Amadeus, was extraordinary.”

The newcomer sounded impressed, but Mr Amadeus paid no heed to it, instead pulling back the left cuff of his suit to glance at a golden watch originally concealed underneath.

“However, there is one sound, that I love more than any professionally played instrument. Do you know what that is?”

Mr Amadeus raised a bored eyebrow, even if the newcomer couldn’t see it. “Please, do tell.”

“Your death throes, demon. Those, are true music to my ears.”

At those words, the temperature of the room seemed to drop, with the pianists eyes shooting to his left to take in the newcomer, and the barkeep looking up suddenly.

The newcomer chuckled to himself. “Ah yes. The sounds of heretical demons screaming, dying and begging for mercy! That… now that is the best music of them all!”

The newcomer sat adjacent from Amadeus was his polar opposite in terms of colour scheme. While he was dressed in all black, the newcomer was dressed similarly in all white, with white dress shoes and fedora with gold trim, no gloves and a gold-coloured tie. A gold stopwatch with a chain hung from the left breast-pocket of the man's outer jacket, who sat back relaxed in the simple wooden chair, an antique nearly. The man had sharp, narrow features, sporting a predatory smile, with blond hair and cold, blue eyes.

“Can you do that for me? Please.” The newcomer almost begged in a childish, pleading tone. “Can you beg and scream! I love that sound so much, and from what I’ve heard about you, I most certainly want that!”

Amadeus slowly turned his body on the stool, positioning his feet towards the newcomer, before retorting back.

“I take it you’re the new lackey that your Holier than Thou masters have sent to kill me? Because I must say, I’m not impressed.”

The newcomer raised a finger to correct him. “Ah-ah-ah! Not a lackey. The Masters of the Exalted felt you required a more delicate touch, this time.”

Amadeus couldn’t help but snort as he raised any amused eyebrow.

“Because I nailed the last cocksuckers wings on the billboard over the freeway? You should tell your masters to send someone better. I’ll even let you leave in one piece. Because, trust me, you are in way over your head.”

Low laughter emanated from the newcomer. “Oh, that’s cute. But, you really shouldn’t speak to me so casually. I am your better in every way! Angels are pure, even the stupid mortals understand that! And what are you? A filthy, treacherous, stupid, fucking, _Demon!_ ”

Each word was spat with harsher vehemence than the last, and at the word demon, the man’s face was transformed into a disgusted sneer.

“If being arrogant and conceited is what I have to strive to be o rise above you, then I’ll pass.”

The angel let loose a guttural growl. “Don’t act so smug and superior. You’re nothing!”

Amadeus shot a glare at the angel.

“If I’m nothing, then what does that make you?”

At that, the newcomer’s sneer transformed into a savage grin.

“Why, little demon, I’m so glad you asked.”

The white-dressed angel stood up slowly, dusting himself off delicately, before fancying a small mocking bow.

“My name is Asphaestus. And I am an Exalted High Angel, sent on behalf of my superiors to expunge your heretic filth from this world, Mr Sygil Amadeus.”

Sygil was originally disinterested in what he assumed to be a mere lackey of an angel, but upon hearing the name and authority of the Angel standing before him, it was difficult to hide his grim expression.

Asphaestus seemed to notice, as he reared to full height.

“Yes… Not so confident now, are you, little demon. I will admit, as far as your kind go, you were quite the nuisance to track. Every time one of my subordinates would go after you, they would seemingly ‘disappear’. You’ve garnered quite the reputation, Mr Amadeus.”

_This is not good. A fucking Exalted?! I should have expected them to pick up their game, but this is extreme, even for them._

Sygil was paying no real heed to what Asphaestus was spouting, instead opting to try and find a way out of his predicament.

“Come now? No smartass response, little demon?”

Before Sygil could respond, the bartender interjected.

“Oi. Will you two knock it off. I just finished cleaning the place, so if you’re going to fight, take it outside!”

Asphaestus turned his head sharply to the barkeep, before sarcastically retorting. "Oh of course, allow me to take this business with my associate outside, would you. Wouldn't want to dirty this _fine_ establishment while you're still alive, right."

"I came here to enjoy a simple night to myself, yet you came to ruin it." Sygil shook his head in frustration.

"You ruined it by existing, Mr Amadeus. By simply existing, yes? Still, as much as I would revel in your complete suffering, I am required to at least grant you a small mercy and grant you a quick death. Even if you decide to fight me, it will be quick, as you are no match for me. Your very existence is a sacrilegious abomination, blasphemying all that He Who Commands Heaven and Earth Above has strived to create."Asphaestus held a clenched fist above his heart, truly believing every word he spouted with devout fanaticism.

Amadeus' eyes narrowed. "I am so fed up with all this holy bullshit that both sides preach. Can't you take a hint and _fuck off_. I have to finish my contract with Lucifer. You and your Holy Order make that quite difficult to accomplish."

"Of course, your contractor. Lucifer himself. You are a powerful and dangerous asset of his, aren't you. However, you're also a wildcard. One that has become enough of a nuisance. And just like all nuisances...." A white pike, elegant in its design, began to materialise into Aspheastus' hands as his grin became more maniac. "You must be removed."

BANG!

Asphaestus' body fell to the ground, a massive bleeding hole in his head.

The barkeep didn't even see Amadeus pull the gun, or even know he had one. But then he saw the darkness. Like flames, dark, sharp shadows danced off of Amadeus' gun hand as he held the still smoking Desert Eagle. After a few seconds, the shadows disappeared, leaving an otherwise normal engraved gun.

Without hesitation, the barkeep ducked behind the bar, desperate to avoid getting shot.

"What the fuck you psycho!"

Amadeus turned his head in the direction of the barkeep. A small smile played on his face as he spoke chillingly.

"I suggest you run home and forget about this incident. The real fun is about to begin."

The barkeep resurfaced with a Toz-134 aimed straight at Amadeus. However, before he could do anything, the pike Asphaestus previously held was sent flying straight into Amadeus, sending him flying back into the piano with enough force to tip it over. A resonating loud boom coupled with all of the strings being struck inside was the ghastly sound that left the barkeep's ears ringing. Then, Asphaestus stood up, hand clutching his bleeding face.

"You fucking cunt! I will enjoy killing you!"

Amadeus jumped up, ignoring both the attack and his opponents fury..

"For an Angel, you sure don't live up to your reputation of being divine and pure of heart."

The barkeeper felt a mixture of confusion and fear at the absurdity of the scene before him, but he was running on adrenaline by now, and therefore logical thinking was not at the forefront of his mind. Hence, his actions were a direct reflection of his compromised emotional state, since he had never truly been placed in such a situation before. As such, he responded the only way he felt was appropriate at the sight of the two monsters for men that were beginning to fight and destroy his establishment in the process.

"GET YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" Those were his last words as Sygil fired a single shot without hesitation into the man's head, exploding his skull and several neatly stacked bottles of vintage alcohol across the back wall. The pure velocity of the .50 AE round sprayed blood and booze everywhere.

The body didn’t even have time to properly collapse to the floor as Asphaestus charged Sygil while his gun was aimed away.

The black-suited demon barely had time jump out of the way as a second materialised halberd came crashing down where he just was, the splintered hard-wood floor exploding. Without missing a stride, the halberd suddenly swung out sideways to decapitate Amadeus. Amadeus had no time to dodge this time, so he used his shadow-teleport to meld into the shadows and teleport behind the crazed angel. This time, however, he forsook his Desert Eagle, materialising in its place a weapon capable of more devastation.

Smoke dissipated away from a smoke grey barrel, travelling up a varnished dark oak forestock with gold trimmings, revealing a polished and engraved steel of the receiver that glistened in the amber light.

Before Asphaestus could react, Sygil unloaded the first round of the lever action rifle into the already deformed face of the surprised Angel.

The blast ripped his face apart, exposing much of the muscle and bone underneath, sending him flying backwards through the closed doors with a loud crash, before he tumbled the few steps onto the cold pavement of the darkened street with an audible _oof_.

Any shot fired on a normal human being would have been guaranteed fatal. Sygil had taken the time many years prior to imbue all of his weapons, especially his few guns, with Unholy energy, making them much more explosively deadly and volatile on an opponent. A trait that was especially useful for dealing with Holy entities such as Angels, like Asphaestus. However, it was also quite unconventional for a higher entity to use, holy or unholy alike, as firearms seemed more useless. _Whoever thought that was an idiot._ As far as Amadeus was concerned, a firearm was vastly superior. Shame he couldn't have some of the more modern arsenal mortals possessed.

Sygil casually stalked towards the door, ejecting the first spent cartridge as Asphaestus began to stand up. _Oh no you don't_.

The rifle was swiftly aimed in Asphaestus' general direction as Amadeus proceeded to unload every single round into the angel. Asphaestus couldn't react as his body was slowly shredded by the gun, with him finally being literally blasted out onto the paved road of the street, blood strewn everywhere.

Asphaestus laid there, eyes glazed over (or whatever was left of them), unmoving.

"You know, for an Exalted, you really did disappoint me. I was expecting more of a challenge. You’re pathetic. Still, credit where credit is due. The fight did end quickly as you said.”

Amadeus now stood directly over the angel. He couldn’t even pretend to act satisfied at his victory, instead sporting a pitiful frown laced with disappointment, before abruptly turning on his heel to walk away, dematerialising his rifle as the same flame-like shadows appeared to eat it away. He wasn't going to bother cleaning the mess.

However, before he could even take a step forward, Asphaestus croaked.

"That… was bloody… pathetic…"

Sygil was caught by surprise that the Angel was still alive, but he maintained his composure as he turned around to acknowledge the ruined angel. "While you fancy theatrics, I fancy efficiency."

"As… do I…"

Amadeus quirked a single eyebrow up in amusement.

"You... are foolish... to be… so… arrogant!"

Aspheastus outstretched his bloodied right hand to point directly at Amadeus.

"I… am barely, getting… started. So please… entertain me."

Amadeus didn't have time to ponder the angel's delusions as he heard the halberd whistling in the air behind him. Before he could react, however, the halberd found its mark and impaled through his left should and heart, its bloodied blade protruding a good metre from his chest. The impact was enough to send him crashing face-first onto the ground. And the pain was unbearable! Not the fact that it stabbed him and completely desecrated his heart and shoulder, but rather the fact the halberd was a Holy weapon. And him being an Unholy entity meant that the reaction was quite excruciating. It felt like a cross between a firestorm and an acid bath occurring simultaneously in every fibre of his shoulder, heart and chest.

As Sygil let out a scream in agony, Asphaestus began to glow, before suddenly a bright white light erupted from his very soul. After the bright flash of light, a fully regenerated Asphaestus knelt there, his white suit flawlessly repaired, and a pair of white angelic wings outstretched on his back. A vibrant golden glow emanated from his body, before he stood up and addressed Amadeus, who was struggling to remove the embedded halberd.

"His Highness promoted me to the rank of Exalted so that I can effectively combat the scourge that is demons such as yourself. Did you really think it would be that simple to defeat me? Are you really that arrogant? No, it doesn’t matter, nor does it really surprise me, you filthy shit. Surely now you must realise the hopelessness of your situation. So, now that you are at my mercy, what will you do? Roll over and die? That seems suitable for your filth." A triumphant smirk adorned the angel's face.

"No, I have… something better. I am… going to watch…. as my pets…. **rip** you apart."

"Bold words. But they mean noth"- whatever the angel was going to say was cut off by the sound of a monstrous roar as the shadows suddenly came alive and charged the angel.

Asphaestus was thrown to the ground as the shadows formed a shape, then two, then three. Three shapes which were viciously snarling, fangs trying to rip into the angel that was desperately trying to roll out of the way and dodge them. They resembled hell-hounds, completely comprised of shadows which flickered like flames, save for the teeth. Those were very much solid. And they were very much trying to kill the trapped angel.

The onslaught was relentless as the hounds gnashed their teeth, clawing and biting at the angel.

"Tchh." The angel cursed his luck as he saw an opening to escape the hounds. He leapt into the air, his wings taking over as he hovered a good ten metres overhead, out of range of the demon's hounds. Speaking of the demon, he had managed to remove the halberd in his shoulder, infected blood profusely leaking out.

Amadeus tossed the halberd aside with his good arm, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Killing this angel was going to be tricky, especially since he was an Exalted. He had underestimated the Angel’s strength foolishly, and his guns had no real effect on the angel, save for slowing him down and bodily mutation. Even then, the angel would regenerate without issue. That meant he had to engage in closer combat. However, with his hounds, he had the advantage of numbers. All he needed to do was the ground the angel and let the hounds finish him off. And he had the perfect tool.

Asphaestus was barely hovering for a few seconds to plan an attack when suddenly the air hissed and instinctively flew to the side. Which was fortunate for him as the spiked chain narrowly missed his head. At a quick glance, he could tell that like the guns Amadeus wielded, the spiked chain was an Unholy weapon, meaning it was deadly for him to be injured by, but nothing his Holy regeneration, a gift by God, couldn’t repair. The chain retracted back into Amadeus' right hand, melding inside his sleeve. The spiked chain was a dark grey, fairly long and incredibly vicious looking. The head of the chain was a solid diamond-shaped block of cast-iron as long as his arm, and littered with barbed spikes that would rip its victim to shreds if embedded. As for the linked chain itself, the chains shared similar but smaller barbed spikes. How the demon hadn't shredded his own hand was beyond even him.

"Tch. Annoying." Asphaestus was annoyed at the demon's perseverance, but he should have expected as much. Sygil was tenacious if nothing else.

The chain flew out again, a little high this time, forcing Asphaestus to dodge and fly lower to the ground. The chain retracted and Amadeus advanced. The hell-hounds circled below until they were directly underneath the angel. Meanwhile, Amadeus threw the spiked chain again, aiming for his nemesis' head. Again, the angel swooped down to duck, but in his focus on the weapon, he overlooked the hell-hounds below, who were now in range of an attack. And attack they did.

With synchronised coordination, all hounds leapt into the air. Asphaestus barely had time to register, and no room to move except directly up. Amadeus accounted for this, and threw his spiked chain forth one more time as the angel shot up, this time however wrapping around his left ankle.

Asphaestus cried out in pain as the unholy weapon's barbs embedded into his ankle and lower calf. Before he could attempt to free himself, however, Sygil gave a mighty tug and pulled the deranged angel into the ground, and into the hounds. The hounds showed no mercy and began to tear into the angel, who screamed in agony as the unholy beings gorged themselves. In desperation, Asphaestus tried to recall his halberd, which came flying into his grasp. He swung to decapitate one hound, but the blade merely passed through the hound like the shadow it was.

Amadeus pulled the chain in, pulling the hapless angel with it. As the angel was caught off-balance, the onslaught of the hounds stopped. The angel was sent flying towards the demon whom, with his injured arm, tore the halberd from the angel's grasp, and in a single fluid motion, performed a perfect 360 degree sweep, majestically severing both wings on the angel. With the carried momentum of the pull, coupled with the demon's finesse, the angel was sent crashing into the pub's stone wall, leaving a sizeable dent of busted brick and mortar.

"You are a disgrace; an embarrassment. I would normally enjoy this, however…." The sound of distant sirens coming closer could be heard. "I think I will let you explain to your precious god how you failed. That honestly seems more entertaining to me. Wouldn't you agree?" Amadeus grinned savagely, ignoring the pain welling from his injury. The spiked chain dematerialised, and the hounds began to fade into the smoky shadows extending from the demon's hands.

Asphaestus gritted his teeth as the demon sank into the shadows, literally, and teleported to god knows where. He laid there in a broken, crumpled heap, his body shooting with excruciating agony due to so many unholy injuries. What hurt most, however, was his pride. He had failed to kill the demon. But all was not lost. The demon would suffer more from his injuries. After all, a holy injury on an unholy being such as that demon wouldn't be able to heal. He grinned to himself slowly. _At least that bastard will suffer._ BLEGHH! He coughed up a copious amount of blood, blackened with unholy elements and poisoning. His stumps seared with pain. But he would heal eventually and regenerate. At least holy beings could heal and regenerate. But now, he had to leave before these pesky mortals arrived, if the closing sirens were any indication.

 _I will finish you, Amadeus._ "I WILL FUCKING FINISH YOU AMADEUUUUUUUUS!"

* * *

Amadeus teleported into the apartment he had been hiding in by merging out of the shadows, which were copious due to all the lights being off. Clutching his still bleeding wound, he walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Without bothering to remove his bloodstained jacket, he turned the water on in the sink and bathtub, as filthy and decrepit as they both were.

The apartment wasn’t even his, at least legally speaking. It had originally belonged to some hapless soul that had the misfortune of pissing him off. Cleaning the blood off of the walls and carpets had been a pain, but murder wasn’t necessarily uncommon in this part of town. A bribe to the landlord had kept him rather silent about his renter’s disappearance, and using the remaining cash savings the fool had left in his closet helped cover for the rent for a considerable while.

Money wasn’t the concern, he just needed a place to lay low from Angels and Demon’s alike, especially if he was found. Like Asphaestus had tonight.

Speaking of Asphaestus, the bastard had inflicted a decent injury onto him.

As the water began to warm up, he opened up the cupboard door, revealing a small medicine cabinet. The few expired drugs were of little use to him, but the roller bandages would help. Now, he just needed to find something that would act as gauze to help stem the bleeding.

Even though he was technically immortal, sufficient blood loss would still cause him to pass out, and would impair his cognitive abilities. Neither of which was desirable.

Once he had enough warm water filled up, he removed his ruined jacket and black dress shirt to expose his injury.

He grunted in pain as he looked in the mirror at the injury. It was quite extensive, the surrounding flesh was ripped apart, and a jagged hole that was swollen shut was right where his heart should have been. Such an injury would have been fatal to a mortal, but he didn't exactly fit that criteria anymore.

Regardless, such an injury wouldn't permanently affect him, even if it was somewhat painful. Instead, it was only a very minor mobility nuisance, but he had gone through worse, so he could just push through it. However, his wound, which was still bleeding profusely, was caused by the halberd, which was a Holy weapon. That would pose a problem.

He spent the next little while trying to rinse and clean out his wound, turning the water in the bath pink, then crimson, and then finally black.

He managed, with difficulty, to crudely stitch the wound shut on both the entry and exit points. That would help his mobility without making it drastically worse, and help keep the bleeding stemmed down for now.

All that was left was to apply the small towel as a makeshit gauze, secure it with the bandage, and then pull the plug to drain the evidence away.

Before the wound could continue to leak blood any further, he grabbed a towel and tried to wrap it around his wound.

Being a demon, he lacked an angels extensive regeneration abilities, so his wound was going to take a long time to naturally heal on its own. And judging by the extensive size and trauma of his injury, it could be a few good months before it healed fully. That… was a problem in his opinion.

He would need a plan to deal with this setback, a plan to deal with Asphaestus for he was positive the bastard would be hungry for revenge, even if he was reckless and headstrong fool. An angel, especially an Exalted one, was not to be taken lightly, as he had learnt from tonight.

As he proceeded to try and bandage his chest and shoulder he began reminiscing about the absurdity of angels and demons. Even after so many years of contractual servitude, he still had to remind himself that it was all very real.

Angels. The polar opposite of demons. While demons were opportunists and immortal, bound by a contract to Lucifer, angels were bound to Father. Vindictive and cruel, they were not to be underestimated. But then again, so were demons. In reality, angels and demons were both vicious, the bi-products of a supernatural war that even he sometimes struggled to comprehend. In his opinion, it made little sense, but he was merely a servant of Lucifer.

Oddly enough, Angels were not immortal, instead granted absurd regenerative abilities. Therefore, death was permanent. The only problem was, with their enhanced regenerative abilities, death was easily stalled. Therefore, in a roundabout way, they were immortal. As a demon, he was immortal, and while he could regenerate from superficial or mortal injuries, anything holy was a bane to his existence and difficult to recover from. What made holy injuries so deadly was it could corrupt and eventually destroy his soul, which was currently held by Lucifer. And that there was very little he could do about it. But that was only if he had a holy infection.

Another thing that intrigued him was the apparent lack of guns between supernatural entities. From his experience, both as a mortal and as a demon, they were major game changers, especially if imbued with unholy elements.

He remembered his initial frustration at the lack of guns he could wield. Apparently guns were not supernatural beings preferred weapons, who instead preferred traditional melee combat with bladed weapons. For some reason, other weapons, especially automatic weapons, could not be incorporated, alongside anything that used electricity. As a result of his gun limitations, he felt out of control and decided to spend the next few decades honing skills with a variety of bladed weapons, his preferred being the Japanese Katana and the Hussar's Officers Sabre, both due to their light weight and swift ease of use. He could materialise several other Unholy ‘treated’ weapons, such as his spiked chain. Of course, such weapons were not easy to use, and the training had been painstaking and slow, but it had paid off in the end.

His reminiscing was cut short as he felt his injury again. Pulling the towel off, he was rewarded by a site he didn’t want to see; an early holy infection.

"…."

The bleeding had stopped, but the hole was red and inflamed. Even now, he could feel the holy infection burning his wound. And unfortunately, he lacked the means currently to deal with and remove the infection.

"Fuck…"

Amadeus steeled his resolve and proceeded to bandage himself, before placing his clothes back on, ignoring the blood stains and obvious holes.

* * *

After getting changed, Amadeus slowly walked to where ‘his’ bedroom was. He had an idea to gain extra time to resolve his injury as well as remain under the radar. While he wouldn't be able to treat the injury and expunge the holy infection, he would be able to buy time without the infection worsening. And the answer lay within the DMMORPG Yggdrasil. He couldn't believe how ridiculous the idea was. According to an overly enthusiastic demon compatriot, who constantly boasted about how Yggdrasil literally saved his life and allowed him to hide from several angels until he could formulate a plan to successfully get the drop on them, it would allow him to remain undetected and halt any injury, no matter how grave. Amongst other things.

He shook his head at the thought of what he was about to do to.

From his understanding, DMMORPG's, such as Yggdrasil, were an advanced virtual reality which operated by hooking up to neural interface of sorts. While basic, it allowed a higher entity such as himself, a demon, to literally enter the game physically. Of course, he was limited by what the game's programming enabled, but it was fairly close to reality. The advantage was, supposedly, that when he entered the game, his actual body was placed in limbo, acting as if in a stasis, while his soul was free to function without restraint. As such, all injuries would cease to progress, holy or not, or so he hoped. This would grant him the necessary time to consider options and solutions to heal his injury. This was crucial since a holy infection would prove lethal eventually without correct treatment. His body could die, which while not to problematic as he could reincarnate, no matter how painful that ordeal was, since his soul technically was sold to Lucifer, a holy infection would transmit to his soul eventually and begin to tear it apart. Without a soul, he would not be able to reincarnate or live. Hopefully, Yggdrasil would help halt this process until he could consider a means to resolve it.

"Tchh. Just my luck."

Another upside to entering Yggdrasil was that while his body was in limbo, he could avoid detection by other higher entities such as angels, except his contractor Lucifer. Unless one of them entered Yggdrasil.

Sighing, he grabbed the headset helmet to connect with Yggdrasil. He didn't have to put it on, he only needed focus while holding his hand on the nodes so he could enter. There wouldn't even be a body left in the real-world so tracing was impossible. And since the platform was online and he was entering as an in-game entity similar to an NPC, he would technically be part of the system to an extent, so the headset could be turned off and it wouldn't forcefully disconnect him. The only way to be forcefully disconnected would be if the servers themselves permanently shut down. _Not that that is going to happen when the developers are making fistfuls of dollars. Or yen. Or whatever nationality they are._

The headset powered on. He placed his hand on the nodes. He could feel his body warm, and a faint blue light began to emit from the headset as he began to disappear from the real world and enter the virtual world of Yggdrasil.

 _I hope this works._ And then he was gone.


	2. Yggdrasil, land of the brave, home of the PKer's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content.

**Chapter 2: Yggdrasil, land of the brave, home of the PKer's**

* * *

Upon 'loading' in to the game Yggdrasil, Amadeus was presented with a virtual control panel before him. In fucking Japanese.

_Jesus Christ! Japanese ain't my native language. Oh, for fuck's sake, I can barely remember this language. I am really wishing I finished my tutoring under Jason when he was still alive. Didn't believe I'd need it now. Let's see if I can remember this._

Amadeus began to slowly read the language he had forgotten. English was his primary language, and he never had felt the need to learn Japanese since he was never in Japan. Now, that seemed to have changed. He was in Japan, if only virtually, and his lack of proficiency was coming back to bite him.

**Hello and Welcome to Yggdrasil new player!**

**You have taken the first steps towards a larger world and we welcome you to enjoy it to your heart's content.**

**Please read the Terms and Conditions of playing.**

_Yeah…. Skip that._

**Please click Next to create an online account.**

**Name:**

_Hmm. Should I go for something ridiculous? Nah, I'll only get confused. I'll stick with my name._

Sygil Amadeus.

**Date of Birth:**

_Fuck I'd tell you that. 01-08-2100. Next question._

**Place of origin:**

_Resident of Earth._ He though sarcastically. _Seriously, the game is only ported for Japan from what I remember. Oh fine. Australia. Hopefully I won't receive hate from a bunch of Japs because I'm a foreigner._

**Email Address:**

_Not at all. Next question._ A loud electronic sound resonated and the box glowed red.

_Fine._

_Notyourbusiness@fuckoff.com_

Surprisingly it worked. _Wow. Sass works every now and then._

**Gender:**

_Other. No. Female. No. Furry. No- wait what the fuck?! THAT'S A THING! AYE AYE AYE!. Only the Japanese._ Sygil shook his head. _Male! Yes!_

**Please explain your choice of Gender:**

Sygil's left eye twitched. _No._

**Thank you for creating an account.**

**Please click Next to continue to Character profile creation.**

Sygil pressed next.

**Welcome to Character Profile Creation, where you can choose from over 1200 different races and classes and level them up. No two players will ever truly be the same. Please click Next to continue.**

Sygil pressed next again.

**Thank you for creating your character. Your stats will be available upon entering the game. Enjoy! – The Yggdrasil Development Team**

_Wait what the fuck?_ It was too late. The menu closed and the world suddenly began to materialise around him.

_I don't get to create a character or what? This is false advertising!_

He suddenly felt it. A change in atmosphere and setting and a change in himself. As if parts of his body were chained. That, and he could hear the sounds of a forest around him.

_Pretty immersive for a game._

A heads up display suddenly flashed before him.

**Hello Sygil Amadeus. Welcome to the land of Yggdrasil. A land where you can forge your own path and destiny. It is up to you to move forward and advance. Don't leave any rock unturned for the mysteries of this world can be found everywhere.**

**Your profile stats are available for viewing. Have fun!**

_Read this another time_ , he thought as the menu faded away. He was here to be granted an opportunity to contemplate his real-life injuries. He could entertain himself later. He was still peeved about not being able to choose his own character though.

He could move normally like in real world, including flexing his fingers, opening his mouth. From what he could also tell, he looked identical to how he entered in real life, including the torn hole in his suit and arm surrounded by dried blood. At least his hair has fine from what he felt, though he barely had time be happy as a couple strands fell in his face. He went to blow them out of his face but suddenly found he could not.

_Interesting. It appears the in-game limitations are applied to me._

He took a tentative step forward. Nothing happened out of the ordinary. He proceeded to summon his Sabre through Shadow-manipulation. It formed in his extended right palm, its blade shining under the virtual sun.

He took a swing in anticipation. _Now I need to test it out on some enemies_ he internally chuckled. He glanced at his left shoulder, expecting pain to be shooting out. Nothing was felt. He could feel himself slowly grin. His injury was in limbo, allowing him contemplate a solution.

He slowly looked around him to finally take in his surroundings.

He was in a small forest clearing with trees surrounding him everywhere. In front of him was a crude dirt path that that went through the clearing from left to right. Two small openings in the forest where the road lay were visible.

Shrugging, he dematerialised the Sabre and began to follow the path to his left. In the distance he could see a town. Maybe he could use that to get some bearings, interact with other players and find a place to stay so he could prioritise his real-life issues. This was only temporary after all. So without further adieu he set off to the town.

_So what can cleanse a holy wound? I know I have to clean it regularly every-time in the real world. But it won't remove the infection. Perhaps if I acquire Asphaestus' Holy halberd I can find a way to reverse it? Perhaps by destroying the halberd with an unholy weapon? No, it will probably be more complex than that. I probably need to convince or kill Asphaestus to remove the holy infection. Fat chance of either. Guess it leaves destroying or manipulating his halberd or killing him. Or maybe another way? Unholy cures? Uggh. I have literally no idea what I need to do. Why can't things have simple solutions._

He stopped in front of the town entrance, a sign next to the road that stated in bold black letters **Mythylhymn.** _Strange name_ he thought. It looked straight out of a fantasy. A central road that passed between an array of shops that were immaculately decorated, bustling with NPC traders, villagers and several players, judging by the ludicrous armour and gear and the faint hovering red name box above. The buildings all had a European gothic style. To the far right in what he assumed was the centre of town was a large castle/fort. It was well designed, made of a mix of gold and marble, and ascending far into the heavens. _Probably impractical in the real world, but it does looks nice._

As he entered the town he came to appreciate the size. _This is a god-damned city! Urgh. And I just wanted to quickly find a place to stay and get information. Who knows. Maybe the locals will know more about healing holy infections._ He chuckled in amusement. Who knows.

 _Actually, that might be perfect! Leave it to a bloody fantasy game to provide solutions. If I asked some players knowledgeable on holy weaponry, they should provide some useful insight. I can translate that information into something for use in the real world. Worth a shot._ Sygil let a small smile creep onto his face. He just needed to find some players that would be useful for some information.

The first place, obviously, was an inn/pub or something similar. Though, since this was technically a game, such places were likely to be purely aesthetic rather than functional. Still, wouldn't hurt to try. Only problem was he couldn't see one nearby.

Plan B. Find a library or- **"Hey, watch where you're going!"** Apparently, bump mechanics worked as someone had bumped into him. And blamed him.

Sygil narrowed his eyes in return, scrutinising the offender. He, he assumed it was a he by the build and voice, was dressed in bulky white armour straight from a Japanese fantasy. Though, since this was a Japanese game it hardly came as a surprise. No face was visible, and the player was a giant, standing at what he assumed to be nearly 7 feet tall. A massive broadsword with intricate designs and a razor sharp double edge was strapped across his back. He looked like a knight, though Sygil sort of doubted that judging by the condescending, arrogant and angry tone. "My eyesight is fine. Yours isn't, as YOU walked into me."

That apparently wasn’t the right thing to say, as the encounter quickly soured, the knight growling gutturally as he advanced a step forward, trying to intimidate the suited ‘player’ before him.

“I’m sorry, what was that pal?” Even if his face was shielded, there was no mistaking the sneer behind his helmet.

Sygil felt his face contort into a slight frown. “I said, YOU walked into me.”

“You’re a gutsy little shit, aren’t ya. Do you have any idea who I am?”

Sygil barely spared him a glance as he began to walk by the hulking behemoth. “No I don’t, and frankly, I could care less.”

The flash of steel as the massive sword from the equally massive player crashing down mere inches from his face into the ground nearly made him jump back.

_No mortal can move that fast?!_

“You know, it’s rude to walk away from someone. I think I need to give a you a quick education on things here.”

Sygil turned to face player, suddenly remembering that it was just a game he was in.

“I’m not really interested. Now, can you _kindly_ step aside?”

The player gave a slow, low chuckle.

“He-he. I don’t think so. Not until you give me an apology, and say, some compensation for the inconvenience here.”

It was Sygil’s turn to give a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I don’t owe you anything. Now, step aside and we can all go our merry way.”

By now, the surrounding crowd nearby was beginning to slow down, NPCs and players alike, to watch the spectacle.

The giant player leaned forward.

“And just who, are you, to make demands of me? You little shitcunt.”

Sygil brought his arms to his side casually, mentally preparing for a fight.

“Someone trying to go about their business, without some overeager jackass to ruin my day.”

“Well, business you say? Then that’ll be double you’ll owe me. Triple since you’re getting on my nerves.”

The knight suddenly stood tall and proud, declaring in a booming voice (really just the microphone being maxxed out).

“I’m Arche Doukus. I’m a rank Level 78 Human Warrior. The best on this map. And you, newbie, are encroaching on my turf.”

Sygil could fell the scowl coming on his face, and though he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help himself.

“Two words. Fuck. Off.:

For a second, his words seemed to shock the player, but, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Except Arche’s reaction was anything but equal.

Sygil saw the vehement swing of the sword, and jumped backwards to prevent getting hit, avoiding a near death? He wasn’t sure if he could _die_ die in a video game, and frankly, he wasn’t overly willing to test it out right now.

Dirt sprayed from the impact of the sword, and the loud crash reverberated around, capturing the attention of everyone nearby, whether players or NPCs alike.

"Do you really want to do this, newbie?! You really want to fight me?! Fine by me, dickhead,” yelled the giant knight, his ego larger than his apparent trivial rage.

Sygil could feel his own frustration mount up, and he yelled back indignantly. “Oh can it you fucking hypocrite! You’re the one that started swinging around that giant letter opener! You trying to compensate for something? You’re a big enough dick as it is, so it must be your brains.”

The Knight growled. It seems a fight was inevitable at this stage, so it was in his best interest to end it. While he was going to be cautious with his opponent, he wanted to test out his skills.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Arche charged Amadeus with surprising agility, bringing the sword to bear on his neck. Even he would admit he was surprised at the speed at which the knight crossed the distance. Which taught him a valuable lesson and reminder. Never underestimate an opponent.

While the blow failed to truly injure him, it sent him flying back into some the NPCs who toppled over like bowling pins. Before he could register anything the knight was upon him, the sword coming down on him again. At least this time, however, Sygil was prepared, though barely. Summoning his Sabre purely by instinct, which surprisingly worked, he brought the blade up with his uninjured arm to deflect the blow.

A resonating clash of steel was heard, alongside a loud gasp by the knight.

"OH BULLSHIT! No scrub should be able to stop my Sword of Magnimus Elficient, let alone resist it!" Now that Sygil thought about, he couldn't feel any weight or pressure from the swords. The sight was amusing though, a tiny man with a tiny sword stalemating a bulky knight with a big sword. Suddenly though, he could tell the Knight was scrutinising him, a dangerous tone in his voice. "Are you a smurf? Or a fucking hacker!"

A small orange, semi-transparent, pop-up box appeared next to Arche, though Sygil could not read it.

The Knight announced loudly, "You’re a Heteromorph! How the hell did you sneak into this town!"

The unbridled hatred, and he dare say racism, from the knight drew attention of all nearby players, oddly enough who were all human, who started murmuring darkly and producing an array of fantasy weapons and mythical items, magical and warrior based alike.

Arche removed his sword and pointed it accusingly at him.

"As the greatest warrior of humankind, I shall expunge your filth from this world. Permanently!"

_You have got to be kidding me right now. A roleplay fanatic._

Sygil quickly calculated how many opponents faced him. He was currently surrounded and vastly outnumbered. While it was tempting to unleash fully on everyone, he did not currently know the abilities of everyone, and if they were as strong as the knight, he would likely lose. And therefore die in game. Even though he doubted he would literally die, considering he had broken the laws of physics and entered a virtual reality with his actual soul, per se, he did not want to test that theory.

Out of pure habit, he used the shadows to meld away and teleport to just outside of the crowd by the town entrance, an act he was presently surprised to realise still worked in the game, much to the surprise and shock of the crowd. That momentary confusion was just that, however, and Arche turned to face Amadeus, throwing his sword with intent to cleave his skull or pin him. Sygil had to admit he was surprised that the sword was thrown so fast and with such precision as rolled out of the way, the sword embedding deeply into the tree where he was mere microseconds prior. It was clear a head-on confrontation with this knight wouldn't work. So he ran. Where to, he had no idea, but he needed to escape the angry mob.

As he ran, he could hear a range of insults being thrown his way.

"Filthy Heteromorph!" "Thief!" "Monster" "Damned undead!" "Hetermorph scum!"

From what he could gather, as he hurdled and weaved across bushes, trees and fallen logs in the forest, was that he was termed a 'Hetermorph', which was something apparently vulgar to these players, who were trying to attack him for just existing apparently.

An arrow whizzed by his head, waking him from his thoughts. Just in time as he came to a cliff. He teleported to the left to avoid an incoming volley of enchanted arrows which exploded when they hit the ground, leaving small craters behind.

_Well shit, that's not encouraging._

He vaulted over a log, turning to glance over his shoulder as he did. There were only 8 other pursuers, the rest must have given up on the chase or were lagging behind. That, he could manage. However, that thought was crushed when the log he was using as cover suddenly split open, the Sword of Magnimus Elficient resting mere inches from his face.

 _God dammit, this son of a bitch is fast despite his size._ He materialised his sabre and quickly brought it to bear on top of the Arche's sword, immobilising his gigantic weapon temporarily as he remembered from earlier. He was exposed currently, but fast as lightning, he brought his free hand to bear on Arche, aiming his hand in a pistol grip at the Knight's head as he summoned his Desert Eagle, ready to put a steaming hot .50 calibre round into the prick's (virtual) brain.

However, nothing was summoned. Instead, he could feel it in his body, as if a circuit had fried. As a result, he was left looking like both a fool and unarmed, though the fast reactions of Arche made the former notion less noticeable, as the Knights massive, gauntlet encompassed hand gripped his exposed arm. Before Sygil could react, he was tugged forwards and thrown behind the knight, dropping his sabre in the process.

 _Fuck! I can't summon my gun!_ He had to roll out of the way as the sword crashed down. _For Christ's sake this guy is way too fast for his own good._ And that thought alone, provided the necessary spark of inspiration for Sygil to create a plan to counter his opponent.

 _I have to use his speed against him. That cliff should do nicely. Maybe I can lure him and force him off the edge._ As he strategized a plan, he dodged and weaved the lightning sword strikes.

 _First thing though, actually get to the cliff._ Said plan was easier said than done, however, with the relentless barrage of sword strikes. Each strike was flashy and acrobatic, but still unable to land a hit on Sygil. Arche must have realised this as he suddenly halted his attack.

" **Greater Item Boost, Greater Agility, Greater – "** Amadeus paid Arche no heed as he rolled under the knight, dashing to his fallen sabre and making a beeline for the trees and cliff.

As he ran, he began to formulate an in-depth plan to quickly remove this nuisance. He just hoped he could summon his spiked chain as it would be crucial.

From memory, there were two trees which led to an opening on the cliff. Considering the knight favoured blindly charging in and overwhelming him, he should be able to force the knight to pass in between the two trees and directly to the cliff's edge. Since the knight travelled too fast, he shouldn't be able to observe the spiked chain acting as a tripwire. Once the knight tripped through, either the trees would rip off and he could use the chain to quickly bind the knight, using the carried momentum and additional weight (if applied in a game) to carry him off the edge of the cliff. Or, allow him to summon his hounds to kill the crazy bastard (or lower his HP significantly). He just needed to wrap the knight in his chains.

To his relief as he ran, he summoned his spiked chain, throwing it around the tree to his left as he ran to the one on his right, allowing the excess chain to rest on the ground out of immediate sight, before heading towards the edge of the cliff, the handle gripped tightly in his gloved hand as he stood in the open, waiting for the knight to come. As he waited, he extended his sabre, the tip facing the ground as a small smile crept onto his features. His wait was rewarded as the knight came crashing through the foliage, glitching through some of the shrubs in his rampage as he charged towards Amadeus, screaming a mighty war cry. Sygil's smile only widened further, showing his teeth.

The knight, oblivious to the trap, charged towards Amadeus and just as he was about to cross the makeshift tripwire, he made his move.

In one swift motion, Sygil harshly tugged on the spiked chain, the force of which raised the chain to mid-thigh height and tore the two trees clean off. Arche had no chance to react, too blinded by his desire to win. As a result, he was swiftly entangled in the mix of trees and chain. And with his carried momentum from his enhancement boosts, he flew forward, right into the waiting blade of the sabre.

Sygil smirked in the victory that was assuredly his now as his sabre began to skewer the head of the knight, before rapidly twisting his arm and subsequently the blade in a move aimed to decapitate the knight, before pushing the headless corpse of the cliff with the assisted momentum of the forward charge. Of course, the limitations of the game came through and the blade did not decapitate Arche, but he was, regardless, successful of disposing of the knight …. Hopefully.

The whole action took no more than two seconds.

As the body flew of the cliff at god-speed, Sygil retracted the spiked chain and examined his blade.

"Huh, no blood." Yggdrasil functioned as a game apparently after all, including a range of limitations. Speaking of which, he dematerialised his spiked chain and tried to summon his Desert Eagle. And once again, he was left empty handed. He felt the same feeling, as if a circuit had shorted within himself.

 _Well shit._ He attempted to summon his other guns, but was met with the same result. _Maybe I can summon more medieval or simple things like my spiked chain and sabre. Can I still summon my hounds and do complete shadow manipulation?_

Wanting to test that theory out, he summoned his shadow hounds. He felt relief wash over him as the black flames licked over his gloved hand, shadows extending forth to produce a single hound. The black, flame-like shadows danced over the main body of the hound, its snarling visage taking form.

"I think he went this way!" A distant voice captured the hounds attention, which snapped its head in the direction of the voice. Sygil glanced in the same direction, before a predatory smile formed.

_Since it's a game, everything is designed to be overpowered and flashy. However, from this brief battle, I think I can deduce that deception, fast and hard attacks are more than sufficient to win against inexperienced gamers. If I am correct, that knight was more skilled or higher-levelled than the rest of these players._

The smile widened at that thought. He extended his other hand, and flame-like shadows extended to form two more hounds. The words he uttered next would cement the fate of the hunting party that was pursuing him.

"Find them… and kill them." The hounds wasted no time, shooting off into the forest at an incomprehensible speed. If one were to pay attention, they would see the in-game shadows themselves wavering as the hounds went by.

Once the hounds had a head start, he began to head back into the forest. He had entered Yggdrasil, assuming that he merely needed to hide in it and maybe use it for potential answers. However, these answers would take more time to acquire due to the in-game feudalism between players. Therefore, he would need to play the game to get the information he wanted. Not that he minded, after all, he could wait. He was, after all, very patient. Therefore, his first step was to gain information of the game itself and mechanics. Next, locations and in-game information about holy weaponry. This was his gamble, after all.

* * *

The sound of distant clashing caught his attention. _Ah. The players have met my pets. Let's see how they fare._

Said players were being decimated by the shadow hounds. They attacked so fast, knocking significant chunks of HP off their stats, before using the shadows to vanish, literally, only to reappear from behind.

Of the eight players, save for Arche, only five remained. Two level 20 players were instantly killed and forced to respawn back at the inn in Mythylhymn, now down a rank or more. A level 30 player was attacked thrice by each hound and suffered the same fate.

However, as far as Grendel was concerned, those players were weak noobs. He himself was a level 48 player, and four remaining players were at least level 40 also. They were all part of the same guild, The Human Alliance, a clan dedicated to the eternal decimation of heteromorph players.

He agreed with many of the clans ideals, zealously believing that anyone that chose races other than human or holy-based was in reality a 'race-traitor'. While such in-game extremism would have been shocking, THA clan, often referred to as The Klan, had specific entry requirements. These were; you must belong to either human or holy-based races. You must dedicate your play-time to Klan duties and responsibilities such as purging/PKing non-human races and expunging such 'abominations'. And above all, you must be strong, or at least desire strength. As such, weak players who refused to better themselves were discarded and often PK-ed to extremes to discourage playing, others kicked, and with some attempts, however unsuccessful, to ban the players and account indefinitely. However, the developers and administrators often ignored such demands.

Grendel and the other Klan members attempted to get closer to watch each-others backs.

"Form a line. It should allow us to hit these beasts! Then we can finish off that Heteromorph!"

As much as he would have feared the player escaping, he knew that Arche, while not a clan member, would have been able to severely weaken or even defeat the player. He just wished these annoying NPCs would leave his team alone. He had never seen these beasts before, and from what he was aware, the developers had stopped updating over a year ago, beginning working on a rumoured Yggdrasil 2. A scream of rage to his left revealed another player losing the fight to the hounds, with several items dropping beside the body, with vanished a moment later, indicating another respawning and loss of XP.

The hounds were relentless. And the players were losing. Another player called out in frustration. "These fuckers are difficult. My sword goes through them. We need to use magic. Try **Light of Atonement**!"

"On it!" shouted the resident magic caster, Annalise.

A circle containing hieroglyphics materialised before her avatar's extended hand as she cast the holy spell. A ball of pure white light extended from the hieroglyph, before exploding, bathing the area in a bright white light.

 **Light of Atonement** was a 5th tier spell that targeted only mindless, beast-like NPC's with a negative karma. It was an effective spell to remove dangerous, animalistic NPCs, especially non-interactive ones. However, it was only effective against essentially animals and not against real players or interactive NPCs. While usable by players of rank 40 and above, it was often not used, as it had a considerable drawback. The player caster was left completely vulnerable for a whole 180 seconds with no further ability to use magic. Furthermore, it was a highly racially-exclusive spell for the human-race with magic and holy boosts and levels. Ultimately, it was redundant for most other players, especially those of higher skill.

However, Annalise and Grendel were confident that it would work quite well. Except it didn't.

Once the flash of light died out, the hounds struck again, this time targeting Annalise with vicious intent. She was next to vanish, a scream of frustration before that too also vanished.

"Argh! What the fuck man! The fuck are these things! I can't hit them!" Screamed another Klan member in frustration. There were only three players left now.

"We need to call this hunt off! We aren't levelled high enough!" Grendel snarled at the coward who suggested that. "We will be when we beat these abominations! Don't you see. If we beat these, we will level up due to their difficulty. So shut up and keep fighting!"

If Yggdrasil were enhanced enough, Grendel would have seen a completely stunned look on the face of the other player who was looking at him as if he grew a second head.

The player, Axel, dodged out of the way of the hound, but took a hit from another one, as he began to retort. "Keep fighting?! We aren't even able to defend ourselves, let alone fight! I'm honestly not in the mood to derank!"

Grendel summoned a Fifth Tier item, a crystal ball. "Just cover me while I summon an Archangel! This holy thing should win against these beasts."

He never got the chance as the hounds materialised around him, pouncing on him. His screams reverberated around the forest, though unfortunately for Sygil as he entered the scene, they were not of agony, but rather infuriation of having lost XP. Only two players remained now, the reluctant Axel, and another spell caster who had only just reached rank 40.

"It's him! The heteromorph!" The spell caster exclaimed. Sygil stared, nonplussed, at the spell-caster, before drawling. "So I have been told.”

Axel suddenly realised that the hounds had ceased attacking and were standing idle, low snarls and growls emanating from them. However, while idle, they flanked the sides and rear of the two players. Meanwhile, the heteromorph player stood in front of him on top of a small rock ledge overlooking them.

“If we can act like civilised people, I would like to ask you a couple questions. Then we can go about our merry way. If not, then I’ll let them,” he gestured to the hounds, “kill you.”

The two allied Human players glanced at each other, somewhat flabbergasted.

 _Is this guy for real_ , thought Axel.

While his Gamer Clan was big into the Human supremacy role-play, he wasn’t too personally invested in it. In any of the role-play to be honest. And the new player before him was giving the vibe of another adamant role-player. But, if he indeed controlled those hounds, then the battle was surely lost. So, wanting to avoid deranking and losing XP if possible, he cautiously answered.

"And what would they be?" The next words emitted from the player before him surprised him.

"I am a little lost currently. I am sort of new to this game, and would greatly appreciate some guidance." Axel didn't buy it for a second, but before he could respond, the player continued by asking his questions. No. Demanding them. There was no mistaking the authoritative tone there.

"So. Do you mind explaining why you chose to attack me unprovoked." The other player, however, answered for him, albeit with a little hostility.

"Because you are a heteromorph player, and we are sworn to defend humanity against your kind!" Axel wanted to sat his idiot teammate in the head.

_Fucking role-players._

The suited player turned to face the spell-caster instantly, eyes narrowed whilst intently scrutinising the offender.

"And who, pray tell, are you," he sneered contemptuously. Out of the corner of his eye, Axel could see the hounds were more focused on the offender also, as if they too were offended by what was said.

"Jeremiah."

Sygil tilted his head slightly and stared at Jeremiah for a second. Without further hesitation, he snapped his left hand, forefinger pointed directly at Jeremiah. Before the two guild-members could understand what was going on, two of the hounds pounced on him so fast, reduced his HP to zero, leaving nothing but a pile of items as the body dissipated away.

_A message never hurts anyone_. Sygil almost chuckled at the hypocrisy of his own thoughts, considering the player just ‘executed’.

Sygil slowly turned to face Axel, the only surviving member of his party.

"Let's make something perfectly clear. Only I ask the questions. You answer them. You will not speak out of line, or I will kill you. If you answer completely and honestly, I will let you go about your day. However, if not…" The threat hung in the air. _This guy is more of a hardcore roleplayer than I am! Why do I end up being stuck with the obsessive ones._

Without waiting for Axel to respond, he began.

"So, entertain me. Why did you attack me? Surely you had a motive."

"Ugh, ‘cos you’re a Heteromorph, and Arche kinda wanted us to. Not to mention, your kind normally don’t go near human territory unless you want to be pk’ed.”

Sygil folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Really? That’s all?." Axel could tell he wasn’t buying it as the complete truth. There was a pregnant pause before he continued.

"Sparing your idiocy, where exactly am I. I lack a map."

Axel could feel his indignation building, not just at the player before him, but the whole situation. "Well, we are in one of the nine realms, Midgard. If you just would open your menu, you’d see that there’s a thing, called a FUCKING MAP! You’d see, that we are just outside of one of the frontier towns before you land in heteromorph territory. THIS, is NOT Heteromoph territory, so, oh, I dunno, maybe, just maybe, look at - "

A snap of Sygil’s fingers and the hounds rushed close to the player, resulting in a frightened yelp as he tried to get out of the way.

At the last second, the hounds stopped.

“Don’t test my patience. At all.”

Axel could feel his indignation giving way to anger. Sygil, either oblivious or uncaring, continued to speak.

"Where can I find information, or churches, or other holy entities and players. Or better yet, do you have information on religious or holy entities for this game."

The sudden barrage left him feeling even more confused and frustrated.

"Like I said, look up your damn menu!"

Sygil seemed to withdraw. "I see then. It’s a shame."

Before Axel could retort or do anything, Sygil continued.

"Before we finish, I have to ask. What is with the hatred for Heteromorphs? I honestly wasn’t interested in a confrontation, but your brutish dick for a self-proclaimed leader appeared to be. What gives?”

"Oh for – COME ON MAN! It's just a game man!"

The hounds closed in, snarling more aggressively at the hostility from Axel.

"Yes." Sygil responded despondently, his eyes cast down in a look of dispassion. "However," he continued, "I find petty prejudice to be rather , well, petty."

 _Since when the fuck did Yggdrasil include such realistic facial animations for player avatars?_ Axel took a step backward.

Sygil jumped down, his knees bent slightly from the impact, until he stood and dusted himself off.

_And the developers never announced new beasts, let alone tameable ones._

"To hate one group of individuals based purely on their class sounds pointless and a lot like racism. While I, personally, could care less about racism, I do find the disregard of one's personality and abilities in lieu of their appearance, race, or in this case, class, quite stupid frankly. I don't hate humanity based on its appearance. I find humanity detestable based on its actions."

"For fuck's sake, it's a game! Heteromorphs are inherently evil and gain XP through more negative actions. What does that say of the individual. I too personally don't agree with racism, but players that choose a heteromorph race instead of their born race when a clear choice is presented are obviously not stable!"

That made Sygil laugh, a slow, deep, contorted and convoluted laugh. "Ha, ha, ha! You are one of the most fucking stupid people I have ever encountered. You were just preaching it is a game, and now you are trying to justify prejudice with some philosophical bullshit, just to convince yourself that you are right! At the end of the day, every player in this game is just a human sitting behind a VR headset. They are not the heroes, nor the villains they portray themselves to be. However, that does not excuse their arrogance and foolishness for attempting to deceive themselves into believing they are who they portray themselves to be." A predatory grin found its way onto Sygil's face.

"Isn't that calling the kettle black though? For all of your preaching of us being human at the end of the day, you are still roleplaying pretty fucking damn hardcore!"

"I could say the same thing about you. At least I know who I truly am. What about you? Do you know who you truly are?"

If facial features could be carried onto avatars, Axel's would have been of dumbfound shock.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean! I just wanted to enjoy a game! That means I will being fighting my inherent racial enemy! Heteromorphs!" spat Axel, all pretense of rank maintenance gone. _Honestly, this guy is fucking nuts!_

Sygil snorted, taking another step forward. "You are a bloody hypocrite. You preach a simple mentality of just 'enjoying a game', a live-and-let-live ideal if I may, yet on the other hand you practice prejudice against other human players for choosing an avatar with aesthetic designs that are not human."

"Oh, shut the fuck-up you self-righteous cunt! You're the hypocrite here, not me! I bet you sit in your mamma's basement wanking it to your father you fat fuck!" Axel was growing agitated as he took a defensive stance.

"Suit yourself in your beliefs," calmly retorted Sygil, un-phased by the insults. "So. Unless you have anything else to add or provide, I believe we are done."

Axel was bothered by the realistic expressions on the player before him. Yggdrasil graphics were good, but not _that_ good yet.

"No. We aren't. I bet you are a fucking cheater, aren't you ya cheap prick!"

In flash, Sygil had drawn his sabre and brought it into the bottom of the player's jaw, the blade protruding from his head.

Axel had no time to react as he saw a blur, and then his screen was temporarily black, before he spawned empty-handed back at the inn checkpoint in another location far, far away. "FUCK!"

Sygil stared at the dropped items, one of which was a basic map, some floating and glowing greenish-yellow orbs which he was unaware of as XP points, some potions and an intricate bastard-sword. As he bent down to pick up the map, he observed how it crumpled like real paper.

_This VR technology is weird. It feels like real paper. Wait! Why can I physically feel this paper, yet I can't even feel my own sword! Argh! This is doing my head in!_

"Interesting speech there, my friend."

Sygil whirled around in surprise at the voice. _Why the hell didn't my hounds sense your presence!_ He would need to investigate that dilemma another time; first thing is to deal with the next idiot that wanted a piece of him.

There were in fact two people before him, though he doubted they were human judging by their avatars. The person on the left was dressed in a suit of full-body armour, with a great broadsword and cape adorned on his back. He could see no face underneath the mask. _Not that it matters, as I can't use it to identify anyone accurately anyways._ The player beside him was a polar opposite. He resembled a half-goat/Capricorn, wearing a fashioned black duster with gold embroidery, monocle and top-hat. His body was covered in brown fur, his feet hoofed, and large claws extended from his fingers.

Looking at the two, he instantly got the impression that these two were leagues more competent than all of the buffoons he faced combined. His instincts screamed not to let his guard down, and so he kept his sabre extended to face and intercept the knight, while his right hand remained close to his side, ready to summon his spiked chain if necessary. _I wish I could summon my guns right now._ Meanwhile, his shadow-hounds began to flank the two potential adversaries, who thus-far remained stationary.

"Who wants to know?" There was a challenging tone underneath, as if to test who was the dominant person.

The Capricorn chuckled while the knight took a step forward, keeping his arms to his side. "I do. I overheard your talk. Witnessed the essential curb-stomping of those other players by your summons. I want to thank you for at least maintaining impartiality towards class differences, even if I don't approve of all of your methods."

"Well, I don't exactly care what you approve of really. I also doubt you are here to congratulate me on my victory. What do you want."

The last sentence was directed with subtle hostility towards the newcomers.

"If you are here to harass me like these late morons, then I am afraid you will be disappointed."

The Capricorn let loose a hearty chuckle as the knight responded. "We were actually nearby in the area, trying to find a player and get back one of our guild's items that was stolen. We were wondering if you would know about it?"

Sygil cupped his chin with his free hand and raised an eyebrow as if pondering upon a memory to recall. After a couple seconds, he shook his head slightly as if to say no. "Not overly. I am new to the game and only just recently ran into these assholes. There was a knight I did encounter, wore armour similar to you… mr?" Sygil prompted elaborately with a slow rotation of his free hand.

The knight leaned forward slightly as if to bow, but kept his attention focused on Sygil as he answered, whilst the Capricorn took a more open stance. However, both, remained in defensive positions regardless.

"Ah, pardon my rudeness. My name is Touch-me, and this is my companion Ulbert Alain Odle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while. I literally just finished my final exam today, and got straight to work on rewriting thise chapter. Again, the original is up on FFN.net if you're interested to compare. Not too much difference ther than some dialogue tweaks near the start and end. I left the sass in at the start because, why not. Guy's had a shit run, and it gets worse anyways lol.  
> I want to post a chapter update every 3-4ish days (for the rewrite), so expect that sort of a time frame unless I mention otherwise. Like I've said before, I'm not abandoning this story, just taking my sweet-ass time :)  
> I hope everyone has kept themselves safe during these interesting times.   
> Feel free to leave any feedback if you choose. And if you have any pointers for what should be amended in this chapter or the future ones, I'll have a look and consider.   
> Take care all, and stay safe.


	3. The first fallen domino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of first chapter:

Sygil could not believe what he had just heard. The knight before him had just stated his name was Touch-me. TOUCH-ME! What the actual fuck! Was this a joke? Or, god forbid, was the player before him serious. While it was wise to never spoil potential relations, especially those that could prove profitable, he could not help but release the snort of amusement that escaped his mouth.

“And what, exactly, is so funny?” Sygil could almost feel the glare Ulbert was shooting his way.

“Touch-Me is the Silver Paladin and World Champion. Surely that’s not amusing now, is it?”

“Come now Ulbert, I doubt he means anything by it,” gently chided the armoured player.

“He still should show a little more respect to us than that,” shot Ulbert under his breath.

"Respect is earned, and so far, you haven't earned mine." Shot back Sygil, surprising Ulbert who thought he hadn’t been heard. Ulbert took a step forward with agitation, however, Touch-me blocked him with an extended arm. "Ulbert! Let's be nice."

"No, I think he needs a lesson in manners. If anything, YOU should earn OUR respect.”

"ULBERT!" Touch-me’s outburst seemed to catch Ulbert’s attention, who stopped and faced the knight with, what Sygil assumed was annoyance. "We will discuss this later! It wouldn't kill you to be more respectful to people."

There seemed to be, for the briefest of moments, and incredulous pause between the two, until Ulbert huffed his grievances, and Tocuh-Me turned to address Sygil.

 _Apparently, there is some sort of friction between the two_ , Sygil observed, ignoring the Ulbert as he crossed his arms. Touch-me faced Sygil somewhat apologetically whilst Ulbert backed off. "I am sorry for my companions behaviour."

"I am somewhat used to it,” waved off Sygil disinterestedly.

"Perhaps you would like to introduce yourself, and we can try again from there," tried Touch-me, acting as the more civil person.

So, with a flourish of his free hand, Sygil curtsied a small bow before, adopting a devilish smile.

"My name is Sygil.”

"Well, Sygil, could you describe this knight to me. Where did you see him?" Began Touch-me.

While Sygil admired the more respectful tone, he was a demon by nature. _No matter what the stupid game might say!_

And as such, he saw an opportunity to potentially milk some information from the two before him.

"That information will cost you." There was a brief silence, before Ulbert responded, more to Touch-me and as if he was smirking.

"I might stand corrected. I think I might like this guy a little."

 _I thought you said you overheard my conversation? If so, you would know those morons previously mentioned they had a hard-on for trying to kill me for being a heteromorph, not a human. Not that I probably am anymore._ This left him to ponder quickly. They lacked information but were trying to bluff their way through, acting as if they knew about him and his predicament. _So next, you will try to begin questioning me, as if to confirm my story, while really just probing me._ Sygil internally smiled. _I'll feed you some crumbs, but instead you'll play the game by MY rules._

Before the two could object to what Sygil had just said, he continued. "A question for a question. Seems like a fair trade. I will answer one question from you, provided I can ask one back."

The two seemed to remain silent for a moment, as if having a hidden conversation, before Touch-me responded.

"We accept the terms."

"So," interjected Ulbert, "what of the knight?"

Sygil smirked. "You already asked a question. Now it is my turn." If Ulbert was going to object, he had no opportunity as Touch-me again accepted.

"Excellent. So, I have your names, but I know nothing else about you. So, give me some background history."

Once again, the two seemed to pause as if having a private conversation, before Ulbert spoke up.

"Touch Me and I are companions. We are part of a guild, Ainz Ooal Gown." Touch-Me continued on behalf of Ulbert. "We belong to the heteromorph racial class. So. The knight."

Sygil nodded slowly as he processed the information, which wasn't overly much to go by, only the bare-bone basics.

"I ran into a knight in a town back yonder," he gestured in the approximate direction of Mythlhymn,"and he didn't overly like me. Bit of an arrogant prick." There was a pause as Touch-Me and Ulbert waited for him to continue. However, Sygil remained silent.

"How did you both get so close without me knowing?"

"Anti-divination and scrying magic. It allows us to get fairly close without any detection." Touch-Me responded curtly as if it were basic knowledge. That was somewhat alarming.

"So where is the knight now, Sygil," started Ulbert.

"Honestly, I don't know. Last I saw of him was him charging off of a cliff as I ran him through with my sabre. Whether he died or not is up for debate, but he is no longer my problem."

As they spoke, Sygil's hounds slowly circled around the two other players. However, Touch-Me put a hand on the hilt of his sword strapped to his back, whilst Ulbert spoke.

"I would advise you call off your summons as they will not be sufficient to win." Sygil merely chuckled in response. "We would have to find out, wouldn't we. Besides, one can't be too cautious. The first people I met here wanted to run me through, so who's to say this isn't a ploy to do the same?"

Touch-Me shook his head. "We have no intention of doing so, so long as you have no intention either."

Sygil contemplated the situation as the tension increased. To the relief of both the guild-members, Sygil recalled his summons. With a snap of his fingers, the hounds dissipated away, leaving only the three players there. "Are we happy now?"

Both players stance eased and Touch-Me released his grip on his sword. "Better."

Truthfully, Sygil wasn't overly concerned by his lack of hounds as he could summon them instantly. However, it was better to appease the two before him to some extent as they might be able to provide information, even if it was intentionally vague.

"You mentioned you ran him off of a cliff? Could you show us this cliff. We would like to retrieve something from him if possible."

"If you can help me find a couple locations and how to get to them, definitely."

The two guild-members exchanged glances. "Where is it you need to go?" inquired Touch-Me curiously.

Sygil pulled out his newly-looted map before casually explaining. "I am looking for areas that can provide me with a range of information, specifically on holy entities. So libraries, inns or other areas with social gatherings. Preferably places where I won't be run out by other hostile people. Know of any?"

Touch-Me folded his arms as if to ponder, but answered fairly quickly regardless. "Human guilds and cities would be your best place, however, as a heteromorph, you would most likely be attacked and killed." He seemed to pause as if contemplating something. Ulbert, however, seemed to sense what he was thinking and interjected. "You can't Touch-Me-sama! He isn't a member, he isn't even a heteromorph player! No! Just no!"

"Oh, relax Ulbert. I wouldn't jeopardise our guild over an offer. We can provide him some information, however, in exchange for some service. You saw how he handled those level forties."

"A mercenary! We have plenty and they are NPCs, no risk of betrayal. He is a completely unknown factor!"

Sygil raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I am right here you know."

Both other players turned to face Sygil. Touch-Me cupped a hand under his chin. "What race are you specifically?"

"I was called a heteromorph. That is all. Why?"

Ulbert sighed in exasperation. "Your specific racial class."

"I am unsure. All I know is I am a Heteromorph."

Both players appeared to gawk at him incredulously, or at least that is what he assumed they would have been doing were it not for the game inhibiting their facial features.

"Bullshit!" Shot Ulbert. Even Touch-Me was sceptical. "Prove it."

Sygil could sense the tension and attempted to diffuse. These two were part of a guild. Who knows what type of firepower for support they could bring. They were, after all, unknowns. "How exactly?"

Touch-Me sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. _Either this player is trying to hide something, or he is really dense._

"Open up your console, and – nevermind, I'll do it myself." With a flourish of his hand, Touch-Me opened up a semi-transparent orange box/screen and began typing.

After several seconds, he began to read out.

"Sygil Amadeus, Heteromorph, Specific race: Unknown. Huh?" He shot a quick glance at Ulbert, who was just as surprised.

As Touch-Me closed the console box, he started. "I apologise for my scepticism, it's just that I haven't heard of a player having no specific listed race. Uhhh. Momonga would likely know." He muttered that last part under his breath.

Touch-Me took a step forward. "Seeing as you are looking for information, and obviously could go for some assistance, I can ask my guild-leader to provide some information. However, you would have to do something for us in exchange. Seeing as you managed to defeat several level forties with comparative ease, you appear to know how to handle yourself sufficiently. We would likely contract you for potential mercenary work and the like."

"Touch-me, we" – "The cliff first, though," insisted the large knight.

 _That was an incredibly quick decision._ Sygil was sceptical of the offer. These two had just met him, and while not outright rude, he was admittedly curt in his responses. The goat player seemed to be objecting currently to Touch-Me's proposal.

_While there is no guaranteed offer of information, you are pretty damn forthcoming with that offer. What fucking braindead idiot just offers a complete stranger a job and information without knowing hardly anything about them?_

"Why exactly are you so willing to help me?" Sygil couldn’t help but be suspicious.

Touch-Me sighed before responding. "If the road is harsh, it is only natural to take your sword and help. That is what I have always lived by. You seem in need of some help. I am offering. You don't have to accept. But I would like you to point us out to the cliff."

Sygil paused, before allowing his sabre to dissipate. "It's this way, over the ledge." Without waiting for a response, Sygil leapt up to the ledge and began walking. The two guild-members turned to look at each other before following suit.

The next five minutes were spent trudging through the forest towards the cliff. When they arrived at a clearing, Sygil stopped to turn and face them. It was the same clearing, evident by the two broken trees.

"He went over the edge. Where to, I don't know, but he is somewhere down there."

Ulbert peered over the edge. A heavily forested valley lay before him, with the virtual sun laying between the two valley's mountain peaks. A picturesque scene, but false none-the-less.

"Now the information," asked Sygil calmly.

"I said I will need to discuss it with my guild-master first to work out the details. We can remain in contact in the interim, however, as I said, some things need to be sorted out." The last part was partially directed at Ulbert who was slowly shaking his head in frustration.

"Hmm. I will consider the offer also," responded Sygil, who suddenly allowed a partial smile to crack his features, forming a slight smirk. "Who knows. This might be the beginning of a great venture and future partnership.

"So, how am I supposed to stay in contact with you then?"

Touch-Me approached Sygil. "This is one of our beacon rings," he began as he summoned a small intricate ring. "It will allow us to locate you when it is equipped. Keep it equipped and we'll teleport directly to you." Ulbert turned away in, what Sygil suspected was, disgust.

Sygil examined the ring as the two began to walk to the edge of the cliff.

"You know," started Sygil calmly. "Not many people are willing to extend such an offer after just first meeting another person. There is usually a reason for that. You should be more careful in extending offers to unknowns. Regardless, I appreciate you for having some faith in me." Sygil finished by curtsying a small bow, his lips curled in a predatory smirk.

"In the mean time, I bid thee farewell."

As Sygil departed the two players he examined the ring in his hand. It was small, white and engraved with several gold runes. While he ultimately doubted the validity of the offer, he would give them the benefit of the doubt. After-all, the opportunity for information was something he was not willing to pass up. In the mean-time, he would search around via other means and begin attempting to research holy entities and ultimately holy injuries. He just needed patience.

* * *

Ulbert and Touch-Me had scoured the surrounding forest where the knight Arche Doukus had supposedly landed, but alas, they turned up empty-handed.

Ulbert glared, or would have if not for the avatar's in-game limitations, at Touch-Me. However, before Ulbert could begin, as if he could read his mind, Touch-me pre-emptively started.

" I know what you are going to say Ulbert, and I will explain when we get back. After all, such conversations would probably be best out of possible prying ears."

"Or we could just use the fucking messaging system," growled Ulbert.

Touch-Me stopped, turning to face Ulbert.

"We will discuss this when we are back at Nazarick."

Ulbert merely huffed in response.

* * *

The large conference room within Nazarick held a large circular table with 40 empty seats. The only seat that was occupied held the absolute ruler of all of Nazarick, and the guild-master of Ains Ooal Gown, Lord Momonga. Currently, one of the NPC maids was cleaning the surrounding walls and empty seats with a feather duster. However, no such dust existed as far as Momonga or the other players were concerned. As such, Momonga hardly paid the maid any attention as she dutifully cleaned.

Currently, Momonga was beginning to feel more depressed with each passing day. He had just been informed that another guild-member had decided to stop playing Yggdrasil due to real-life issues. While Momonga and all other guild-members were sympathetic to the real-life requirements everyone was dutifully expected to follow, it still hurt knowing that he might never hear or see from the guild-member again. While he had been assured by said player that when time permitted they would return, he honestly doubted the truth behind those words. After all, plenty of guild-members had said those exact same words, only never to return.

Currently, only Ulbert, Touch-Me, Pereroncino, Hero-Hero and himself actively logged on now, and even then, their activity was often limited nowadays.

Pereroncino only ever entered randomly, and he suspected it was mostly to get off with his NPC. While such activity was restricted in-game, the developers couldn't control what a player did with their hands in real-life.

Ulbert and Touch-Me were still ever-distant nowadays, only being together if absolutely required –

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING TOUCH-ME!"

 _Ah, speak of the devil, no pun intended, and he shall appear_. Momonga turned to address the two players in question that had teleported into the room via the rings gifted to them. At first he was happy to see them both, however his mood dissipated as he witnessed another argument between the two.

"Are you trying to jeopardise our guild?!"

"Oh Ulbert, will you shut the hell up! You KNOW I wouldn't try to jeopardise Ains Ooal Gown, so quit acting like a spoiled child!"

"I'm the spoiled child?! You have everything handed to you in life, a job, family! For fuck’s sake you even get to act like a self-entitled leader when you’re not! So don’t lecture me on being spoiled, you over-privileged moron!"

"Ulbert, I have had enough of this stupidity! We need outside players not affiliated to us to work with us. Considering how you seem to act like a literal devil, you of all people should agree to this choice."

"I would, if you didn't choose the first fucking person we meet without any prior knowledge! I thought YOU of all people would be collected enough to know better!"

"Then what better way to keep tabs on an unknown than to directly hire them!"

The two kept going back and forth, seemingly oblivious to the presence of Momonga and the now watching maid. If one were to observe closely enough, it would almost appear as if the maid was slightly shrinking back in fear of the two's shouting match and aggressive arguing.

 _What on earth is going on?_ Momonga was puzzled as to the argument.

"How the fuck do we keep tabs on them! By using the ring you gave them? The ring they may never wear, or get rid of! You seriously haven't fucking thought this one out!"

"Um, what is going on you two?" interjected Momonga cautiously.

Both players turned to acknowledge the guild-master in surprise, having been caught unawares of his presence.

Ulbert sighed in exasperation, cutting off Touch-Me before he could begin. "Touch-Me has essentially taken it upon himself to extend an offer upon a complete stranger, potentially placing our guild at risk!" Touch-Me snorted as he interrupted Ulbert. "I hardly doubt Ains Ooal Gown would be put at risk. No. Remember that player that stole one of our guild-items. Arche Doukus?" Momonga slowly nodded, regaining his composure from the bombshell of an entrance by the two players.

"Well, apparently, he was supposedly 'defeated' by a newcomer we encountered. A complete unknown."

"Now you are sceptical of Sygil," growled Ulbert as he crossed his arms. "I was trying to take advantage of a potential opportunity for our guild," snapped Touch-Me, his head jerking to face Ulbert.

"Well good fucking job Touch-Me! Let's start by giving him one of our rings and letting him go completely free without gathering more information! Fucking bravo," snarked Ulbert sarcastically.

"I was trying to encourage a potential future meeting with him so we could work out a potential arrangement."

"Yeah. By giving him a fucking Beacon Ring, so we can teleport right into a fucking trap! That's if he is still even wearing it! I know I wouldn't be wearing it if I was approached by two random players! Fucking idiot." The last part was shot with venom directly at Touch-Me.

Momonga intervened before things could escalate even further, if that was somehow possible.

"Guys, you need to stop and calm down. Who the hell are you talking about? What's going on. I'm already confused?" _Sheesh! This is really getting out of hand!_

Ulbert, Momonga assumed, was glaring at Touch-Me as he went to take a seat on the far side of the table away from Touch-Me. In response, Touch-Me sighed, bringing a gauntleted hand to his face as if to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"As I was saying," he shot a look at Ulbert who merely threw his hands in the air in mock surrender to allow Touch-Me to continue. "We encountered an unknown player. He wiped the floor with a bunch of level forties."

"So?" Momonga hardly considered this noteworthy. _A skilled player pwned a couple of casuals?_

"He said he was a relatively new player. At first, I doubted that, but after seeing his stats in the console, I figured it would be best to arrange a meeting between us so we could decide his potential use. He wants information and we need outside players non-affiliated with the guild to do contract mercenary work."

Momonga raised a skeletal hand to stop Touch-Me. "Touch-Me, surely there must be something more to this player than that. I mean, level forties are kinda scrubs in the game. Anyone higher than 45 could wipe the floor with them. We would be better off sending the Pleiades for mercenary work." _Though I doubt NPCs would be of much use against actual players of decent skill._

"Yeah, well, his stats were zero. Zero, Momonga! The guy was barely rank 1 for XP! I think that warrants a mini investigation for ourselves."

Ulbert snorted. "Oh wonderful. Let's work with a cheater! You really are fucking stup-" "ULBERT!" This time it was the guildmaster that raised his voice.

_God I hate doing this, but I hate seeing us fight even more! Back on track though._

"So, a level 1, not even, essentially unleashed a can of whoop-ass onto some level forties. I'll admit, that is impressive. But also suspicious."

"Obviously," agreed Ulbert. Momonga ignored him and faced Touch-Me. "So, what exactly was your plan concerning this new player. You are sure he is a new player?"

"He said he was 'new to the game' and was around level 1. Otherwise, I am unsure. I said I would discuss it with you." "Hmm." Pondered Momonga. "Could be a deranker? Drop a couple levels and bait weaker players into a 'fairer' fight, only to obliterate them."

"Down to level 1 Momonga? I doubt it. More levels means access to more skills, perks, and essentially means you can more easily dominate other players. Not the other way around." _I get it Ulbert, but you don't have to be an ass about how you say it_ , thought Momonga, not overly appreciative of Ulbert’s undertone.

"He was looking for information concerning Holy Entities and relevant Elementals. We need some decently skilled outside players for mercenary work. I was thinking of a symbiotic, ah, business opportunity, is it Ulbert?"

"That can work, however, I am concerned about having someone with hardly any XP and capable of decimating level forties wandering Nazarick. We already had an item stolen because we underestimated one player. I don't know Touch-me. This seems a little fishy. What are your thoughts Ulbert?"

"Like you, I think Sygil is fishy. No levels; can dominate level forties; conveniently can benefit from Nazarick; and also 'supposedly' threw Arche of a cliff. Personally, this guy screams fucking cheater, but hey, I don't' have good judgement, _right_ Touch-me."

"Fuck off Ulbert."

"Sygil? Is that his name?"

"Yes, Momonga. Wears a black suit, black gloves and black boots. Ya’know, the real edgy type."

"How exactly did he win?" Momonga was curious. A level 1 obviously needed an ace in the whole to trump a team of level forties, so what was it? Unless he really was a cheater.

"He didn't use spells, using his summons instead. They did the brunt of the work from what we could see. He simply delivered a monologue. We only arrived near the end, so I don't know everything that transpired."

"Hmm. Perhaps if you bothered to ask fully, he- " "Asked a question for a question. Ulbert, if you have nothing to contribute, then shut up." Touch-Me snapped at Ulbert, who promptly ceased to speak.

Momonga sighed, resting his read in his hands. "Please guys, is this necessary? All you two do now is fight. Why can’t we all just move on?”

"Sorry Momonga."

"I apologise."

The apologies were merely for Momonga’s sake, and he knew it. They would still remain at odds with each. And that little fact always made him sad.

_I wish that incident never happened. Look at the divide amongst us now._

"So you have arranged for a potential meeting with this player. Are you recommending them to our guild, or are you looking at contracting their future services?"

"No. I was thinking of contracting his services as an external mercenary, particularly for the retaking of our mine that that other guild, Seraph, captured from us. From there, maybe we could observe him and determine his overall usefulness or if is really a cheater."

"Fucking hell Touch-Me, why didn't you just say that earlier when he was standing in front of us!?"

"Because I wanted to run it by Momonga before causing false expectations with Sygil, Ulbert."

"Well I don't know Touch-Me, this is all very sudden!"

The undead overlords sudden burst caused the other two to look at their leader with surprise. He continued after gaining their attention.

"Normally I would run it through the other guild members, but…" he trailed off solemnly, looking down. "Nearly everyone is gone. Only a select few remain. It feels like it would be tarnishing their memory to just accept someone into our ranks, even if beneficial."

Touch-Me slowly nodded, understanding where his leader was coming from. "We don't have to accept him, but we can use him, save us some grief, and get our mine back!"

Ulbert stood back up and walked over to the two.

"While I hate the hasty decision making, I think I can agree with the choice of employing an outsider to bear the brunt of our assault. It would save us so many resources. Perhaps, I might be willing to consider looking at and personally judging his actions to determine if he is not a cheater."

"Then perhaps we should summon the other remaining members and cast a vote if we want to hire him. Ahh, shit. There's hardly anyone on anymore. I don't think there is enough for a valid vote?" Momonga was ultimately unsure, but Touch-Me intervened.

"Indeed they hardly come on, which is why as guildmaster, you can send a quick invite, and all members that _do_ attend can present a valid vote concerning whether or not we contract his services."

"And we can actually question him this time," Ulbert added.

"So are we going to do a quick invite now?" asked Momonga unsurely. Touch-Me shrugged. "We probably can do. Hero-Hero is currently working overtime, Peroroncino is unavailable. That just leaves us."

"So let's find him using the ring and get this over with." Ulbert had seemed to calm down a bit now, much to Momonga and Touch-Me's relief.

Touch-Me opened up his inventory to access the guild-tracking item for the ring. After a couple seconds of opening several inventory screens, a translucent screen came up. Momonga and Ulbert crowded around it to see the location of Sygil.

"Uh, crap." Touch-Me didn't sound too confident, and as other two exchanged concerned glances before looking at the screen, it became apparent why.

The screen was blank with a no-connection error. Meaning, the ring wasn't currently equipped, therefore tracking wasn't currently available.

Ulbert slowly turned his head to face Touch-Me. He exhaled slowly and deliberately, his breathing a prelude to his frustration.

"Touch-Me, perhaps now you’ll reconsider my words of advice in the future. You stuck-up ass."

Before another argument could start, Momonga intervened. "Perhaps we can track this player using their account name? You did get his name correct?"

"Yeah, but even then, it might be an alias. Sygil Amadeus, though I have no idea how it is actually spelt." Touch-Me responded calmly, ignoring Ulbert's offhand comment.

"So…. " Momonga, if his avatar permitted, would have dropped his jaw in shock. He could not fathom how Touch-Me managed to forget certain details. It seemed unlike him.

"Um, are you actually alright Touch-Me? Normally you are a lot more organised than this? Is work getting at you?"

Touch-Me, of course, shrugged off the concern. "Nah, I'm ok. Just been busy lately is all." Momonga hardly bought it, even Ulbert expressed some concern. "Look, I get it, you are busy with work and all, and Yggdrasil is one of our only escapes," Touch-Me crossed his arms as if unimpressed. "Err, well, _one_ of our escapes from society, but you shouldn't neglect on sleep."

"Like I said, I am fine. Let us just find this Sygil and then we can wrap up our business and go back to spreading the glory of Ains Ooal Gown." Touch-Me jokingly started.

 _Of course. Leave it to Touch-Me to get sleep deprivation because he wanted to help someone_ , thought Momonga in amusement. Before anyone could continue, he raised a hand, gesturing silence, before commanding.

"Touch-Me, as guild-master, I order you to go get some sleep. It's not worth your health. Ulbert and I will organise this Sygil person. Come back when you are fully rested and have time. We have plenty of it! It's not like the devs will shut-down Yggdrasil in the foreseeable future."

There was a pause as Touch-Me considered what Momonga proposed.

"Alright Momonga, I'll let you two sort it out." Not even a second, Touch-Me's avatar vanished as he left the game, a small notice being displayed in the guild's chat.

Momonga slumped into his chair and sighed before glancing up to Ulbert. "So. Now to deal with this Sygil person."

A heavy silence permeated the air as the two Heteromorphs glanced at each-other. _This is going to be a long week,_ grimaced Momonga internally.

* * *

Sygil stared at the ring he was provided with, admiring the slight intricate details, even if minimal, that were 'etched' onto its surface. A mock breeze was heard to howl by, and several leaves reacted. However, as much as he wished otherwise, it was still a game only and therefore the breeze could not be felt.

As he pocketed the ring, a small blue emanated as the ring vanished into his inventory. He had finally figured out how to access his inventory as he was in the game itself. All he needed to do was swipe his left hand in front of his face from left to right and he could access it. Unsurprisingly, it was quite bare, with no additional equipment stored. Even his inherent weapons from the real-world did not display. His health bar was apparently full, with his stats showing Level 1, the rest non-sense gamer gibberish.

Sighing internally, he steeled himself to try and decipher what it could possibly mean.

 **Mana Level 1; 100% Bonus points available: 10 XP** \- Probably something to do with magic, he assumed.

 **Racial Level 2; Unknown. Bonus points available: 10 XP** \- _Obviously_ , he sarcastically rolled his eyes. _Perhaps if this fucking game let me do what it advertised, I would actually know._

**Armour Level 1: 100% - Bonus points available: 10 XP**

**Attack Skill: Level 1 – Bonus points available: 10 XP** – _What? I already know how to fight thank-you very much. Levelling-up, is that the term? Should permit me to gain more skill points theoretically. Wonder what it actually does?_

 **Intelligence Skill: Level 1 - Bonus points available: 10 XP** – _Fuck you for insulting my intelligence game._

After figuring out how to, he accepted the bonus points, which resulted in all of his levels increasing.

**Acheivement Unlocked – Win a fight against at least 1 player ranked 10 levels or more above you. – Bonus points available.**

Ultimately not too sure, he accepted regardless.

**You have now ranked up. You are now level 4. Go get 'em.**

_Wonderful sense of humour._ He rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Seeing that there was no more to do, he exited the menu and sat down, taking in his virtual surroundings. He was currently in a hilly grass field, with the forest behind him. No-one was around, giving him some privacy. He decided to focus on the recent past events.

Starting off, was his ability to summon some of his weapons but not all of them. Looking at his extended, gloved hand, he contemplated the bizarreness of the situation.

Without warning, the deadly sharp blade of his katana materialised in his hand, extending horizontally. If anything were in the way, it would have been impaled by the action. Regardless, his body did not react to the motion nor the added weight. In fact, now that he had time to observe, he could literally feel no weight to the blade at all.

Giving the sword an experimental flick, he was rewarded with a vicious whistle of the blade through the air with no resistance at all. Being a literal, mostly immortal demon, he possessed some enhanced strength and abilities, and therefore any resistance felt by his katana was negligible, but this was something new altogether. _Literally no resistance_. He chuckled at the implications. He just had to make sure his strength didn't decrease in reality if he was going to spend a great deal of time in Yggdrasil.

The weapon dematerialised as he summoned his spiked chain. The results were identical.

 _Interesting._ Next, he summoned his Desert Eagle. Or rather, he tried to. Once again he was met by the same annoying feeling and lack of results. He could feel the short-circuiting in his body, a unique feeling, though not by any means painful. _Tch. Unbelievable._

Once again, he tried to summon the weapon, but nothing happened other than a repeat of the same feeling, though a little more intense this time.

_Perhaps if I try the lever-action?_

And try he did.

 _Mother of Christ that actually hurt!_ It felt as if someone were extending his spinal cord, and replicating the feeling throughout his entire body.

"Urgh! This is so bloody CONFUSING!" He cupped his head in his hands as he tried to clear his mind.

_So I can't summon my guns, yet everything else works. Or so I hope. But why? Is there something wrong with the guns. What is the missing link!_

He must have sat there thinking for a good 10 minutes until an idea popped into his head.

_Is the game restricting my abilities because I am actually entering it? But why hasn't it fully restricted them then? It makes no sense. I mean, yes I am breaking the laws of reality by entering a fantasy medieval game….. But what is it?._

Shaking his head in contrived annoyance he was left to deliberate on his next pressing dilemma. Starting with the ring he recently pocketed and the two guild-members he met.

Ultimately, while he had no intention of prolonged allegiance, especially in a game, the possibility of information which could help him piqued his interest. Considering the game actually restricted his guns, it gave more reason to suspect that Yggdrasil might contain the information he required on holy energy, weapons and healing. He just needed to dig into the right areas.

_I wonder who actually created this game? Did Angels or Demons have a part in this, I wonder?_

Another mystery for another time, and not a pressing one. The system worked for him for now, and so he wasn’t about to jinx it by poking and prodding in places that needn’t be disturbed. At least for now.

However, he was posed with an obstacle, a rather minor one, but annoying none-the-less. His in-game racial class was ostracised and treated with open hostility by the majority of players.

Being attacked by anyone and everyone would be slight hindrance to his information acquiescing. He didn’t exactly want to spend time defending himself every two minutes because of some prejudiced glory-hound.

And then there was the one potential problem which he found himself praying to whatever higher entity existed that didn’t want to eternally feud with him.

_Please let there be actual, valid information that I can extrapolate and replicate_

Yggdrasil was just a game, but even still, because of its mythology, there was the potential for it to help him. However, the opposite could also be said. The only supporting evidence it might actually help him was its ability to place his injury in limbo, and allow his soul to merge with it in the first place.

Unfortunately, he had no means to prove it would otherwise work, so he would have to commit. At least his injury was fully halted, so time was on his side now.

Concerning the guild Ains Ooal Gown, he would have to wait for what the other players decided. Honestly, he anticipated there to be some animosity around his presence. He was a stranger, and humans were mistrusting. And for good reason. He was once one. And it was blind trust that resulted in him becoming what he was now; a demon.

While the potential gain was information, there was also potential risk. Remembering the Silver Paladin's words, he might not be guaranteed admittance or even an audience with the guild master. Furthermore, more likely, it could be some sort of trap he was being set up for. That honestly would not surprise him; many a fool had attempted to trap and kill him. He would return the favour tenfold in kind and set an example. The benefit would be his notoriety would increase as he killed the guild-master of Ains Ooal Gown, something which could benefit him later. That was only if they tried to kill him however. Which was another thing he needed to investigate. The permanence of death in the game.

 _Players can revive or respawn if they die, but can I? Have to find a safe way to test that out._ This game was giving him more headaches now that he thought about it. Perhaps he should have just let Asphaestus kill him. At least it would have been over by now with little headache.

_Actually, killing the guild-master might not work as he could respawn. Plus, this would be his home, and those other two might be present. I have no idea of the power scaling here. And Arche was a pain to deal with. Three players plus god-knows what else, maybe not the best plan in hindsight._

A lifetime ago, he recalled serving the human military banner, a naïve loyal fool. Despite his dogmatic views at the time, he did learn many other useful things prior to his betrayal, or as he referred to it, his ‘Awakening and Enslavement’.

Military training ingrained in him had proved most invaluable in countering opponents, organising and planning his next steps, and granting him the discipline, patience and resolution to follow through with everything. However, it also taught him to be more direct with his problems. Which was beginning to piss him off.

_Why can’t I just shoot this problem and be done with it?_ He internally bemoaned.

While diplomacy wasn't foreign to him, it was easier to 'remove' his problems, especially since he was practically invincible to mortals. Now, however, he needed information and likely the generosity of others to help survive.

_How do others justify killing?_ The thought came unbidden. However, it didn’t catch him entirely off-guard. The same thought had often cropped up throughout his life, both as a mortal human, and now as a demon. However, it lacked the weight it once had. Now, it was just a passing curiosity.

It wasn’t that he was evil, just jaded and desensitised. That didn’t make him any less a decent person. Killing was a necessity, especially in his line of work, both past and current. Rather, he instead focused on maintaining his professional standards.

_Be fast, be hard, and be effective. Don’t hesitate, and remember, given time, they all can become twisted and evil._

Years of betrayal and pain had taught him that humanity was a fickle thing. That wasn’t to say he hated humanity, for the very young exhibited true innocence worth preserving, something he would do to ensure if possible. Rather, he was aware of just how despondent, depraved and cruel humanity could be. And so, in turn, he would respond in kind. While he still upheld several sacred moral values clinging from his previous life as a soldier and mortal human, he never hesitated when it would come to murder, turture and even genocide. _So long as the means justify the end._

He paused for a moment to take in his thoughts again.

_How do others justify their killing?_ He shook his head slowly. Once again, another age-long mystery he had yet to solve.

 _If only things weren't so grey to perceive. Maybe these players will be decent? Hopefully._ He almost immediately banished such thoughts from his head. He knew the truth. People were vindictive, opportunistic and selfish.

The two players he had encountered were… interesting… to say the least. Touch-Me seemed rather friendly and willing to extend a helping hand. A little naïve, he supposed, but perhaps the world needed the innocent naivety. Ulbert, on the other hand seemed rather arrogant and more akin to a roleplayer. However, he was also rightfully sceptical of him, unwilling to offer immediate aid to an unknown. From what he could gather, apparently he had decimated a clan of high-ranked players, which was rather shocking. He honestly didn't know how they were high ranking, or how the outcome was shocking. They had poor coordination and tactics, and he struck at them with his hounds, which relied on blitzkrieg attacks; fast and hard. It wasn't exactly fair, but then again, neither was life.

Perhaps he was overanalysing things, though.

Finally, there was the ring that Touch-Me provided for tracking. Honestly, he was sceptical of the ring. It would track him if worn, allowing the guild members to track him and invite him for an audience with the guild-master. Yet, no matter how he interpreted it, it seemed like a blatant trap.

_Either that or this is the most poorly orchestrated means to invite a person to a meeting._

The ring could be lost, destroyed, given away, or not even worn. Though if he were to be honest with himself, the ring probably was traceable, even without being worn. Otherwise why offer it?

 _Perhaps again mortal stupidity has arisen and they are poor planners in advance?_ Maybe. That still didn't explain the lack of other means of communication. No, he would anticipate a trap. However, he would remain cordial with his 'hosts' until proven otherwise.

This raised the next question, what would the meeting entail? That was if he was even given a chance. In the event he was, he needed to be careful in what information he provided and what he didn't. While they were likely to be mortal humans blissfully unaware of the cosmic war between two clashing spiritual races, that didn't discount the possibility of information being leaked to outside of the game and landing in the hands of unsavoury individuals, such as Asphaestus. However, he should be theoretically safe.

_For now, at least._

As his mind wandered, anticipating potential outcomes and how to achieve the best possible results, he habitually glanced at his wrist-watch to see the time. Surprisingly, the watch still worked.

_So a gun will not work yet a watch can? Fucking whatever, I don’t want to deal with this shit. So long as it works outside this stupid game, I’ll be content._

He produced the ring he had been provided and examined it one last time. It had been several hours since his encounter with the two guild-members. _I guess it's time to take a chance._ Without a word, he placed the ring on his left index finger. Nothing happened, but if the players words were to be believed, he was now able to be tracked now.

_The ball is in your court now. I hope you don't end up wasting my time._

* * *

A whole day had uneventfully passed for Ains Ooal Gown. Momonga and Ulbert had agreed to maintain an eye on the Beacon Ring in the event Sygil was available. Unfortunately, they all had work, so the night and following day passed by with no-one observing the ring. Regardless, when Momonga logged on, followed later by Touch-me, they were somewhat pleasantly surprised to see that the ring's beacon was activated.

A short while later, Ulbert and Peroroncino logged on also.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you Pero-san. Been a while since we last were on together." Momonga was rather cheerful when he spoke, glad to see his long-time friend join.

"Eh, what can I say, I need to check on my sweet little Shalltear," he started lovingly. Suffice to say, Touch-Me was repulsed.

"I am sure that is borderline pushing onto illegal. She looks 14 dude " – "SHE'S MY LOLI DAMMIT SO I'LL DO WHAT I BLOODY WELL WANT OKAY DAMMIT!"

Everyone was taken aback by Peroroncino's outburst. The room was silent for several seconds until Momonga started unsurely.

"OK? Regardless, I am glad you are here."

"Yeah, it’s been a while. So who's ready to reclaim our mine?" Ulbert seemed rather excited, so Perorncino humoured him.

"What are you so excited about?"

Touch-Me interjected. "You know that guild, Seraph?" Peroroncino slowly nodded his. "Well, they blind-sided one of our mines a week back and now control it. Ulbert is a little enthusiastic, but ultimately, we want to reclaim it." "Through overwhelming force nonetheless," beamed Ulbert devilishly.

"Yes, although, we are thinking of possibly hiring mercenaries as cannon fodder to take the brunt of our assault so we can pave the way to glorious reclamation for Ains Ooal Gown." "Those are big words Momonga," teased Peroroncino.

"So have you got any mercenaries, then?" Peroroncino was genuinely hopeful.

Momonga sighed in defeat. "Unfortunately no. Although, Touch-Me and Ulbert apparently ran into a skilled outsider" – "Who is likely cheating or going undercover as a low skilled player," interrupted Ulbert, who was in turn glared at by Touch-me, or as what would constitute as a glare for a game avatar.

Momonga coughed before continuing hastily. "Yes, well, err, umm, that is the thing. We know fairly little about this player, _due to a certain groups lack of information gathering_ ," he stressed that last part at Ulbert and Touch-Me. It was a poor attempt at emulating authority, but it seemed to work as they seemed to glance away.

"Now we need as many members of the guild present to help, uh, democratically cast a vote as to whether or not we accept this player as a mercenary."

Peroroncino stared what seemed dumbly at the guild-master before stating the obvious.

"If he's a heteromorph and productive member of society, as per the guild requirements, then let him join. As long as he's good in your book Momonga, I'm fine with your decision."

The three other players were flabbergasted. Ulbert spoke up.

"Pero-san, I don't think you understand. We are trying to decide whether we accept this player as an _outside_ mercenary to _work for_ us, not actually join the guild. We need to determine if he has suitable qualities to work for us. After that, if he even is considered as a possibility, then we will use him as cannon-fodder. Likely ditch him."

"Oh, so I can get rid of a guild-member and we have a war about it, yet you want to betray another player unprovoked? Hypocrite much?"

"Ha, that is rich coming from you, Touch-Me," started Ulbert.

"ENOUGH! We are here to determine the eligibility of this player for mercenary work. Not bring up age-old disputes." Everyone was surprised by Momonga's outburst.

"Right, sorry Momonga-san."

"Sorry Momonga."

"Anyways. We all likely think he might be cheating or is more skilled than he appears. Hopefully it is the latter. But think of this as a trial by fire to determine his innocence. We can determine the truth behind whether he is legitimate or not, we also get our mine back, likely at his expense. He gets some information from us, pretty much in-game stuff about holy things, I think you guys said," Momonga turned to Ulbert and Touch-Me for clarification, who nodded.

Ulbert sighed. "We just need to clarify if he is legitimate and won't give us grief."

"That's what we are going to find out soon." Reassured Touch-Me.

Momonga pulled out the Beacon Ring tracker so he could search for Sygil. In the mean-time he inquired to everyone else.

"Do you know if Hero-Hero is coming on soon? I sent an invite out earlier but he hasn't responded."

"He will be coming on within the hour," replied Peroroncino calmly.

"Okay, sounds good. Now. Just need to see if…" Momonga trailed off before letting out an exclamation of satisfaction.

"Ah! He's wearing the ring fortunately. It says Sygil Amadeus. Is that correct Touch-Me, Ulbert?"

"Yeah, sounds about right." Confirmed Touch-me.

"Good, we can make preparations, and once Hero-Hero is on, we can start our meeting and cast a vote. Majority rules. That sound good?"

"Sounds fair Momonga," nodded Ulbert.

"Good. Ah, Touch-Me, if you want to go bring Sygil to the First Floor, we can hopefully organise a decent reception and bring him to the throne room. Once there, we will commence our meeting."

Touch-Me nodded and took the ring-tracker from Momonga.

"Won't the NPC's attack him though?" Questioned Peroroncino.

Ulbert confidently answered. "Not if a guild-member is escorting him and he doesn't draw weapons or attack. He should be fine. Plus, its best to avoid teleporting directly to the throne room. Some of the NPC's seem a tad defensive of randomly appearing outsiders. The guy will probably be killed before we could order them to halt." He chuckled at the last sentence, mostly to himself. Peroroncino slowly nodded.

"Well, I'm off to go retrieve our newest helping hand," jokingly quipped Touch-Me, who suddenly disappeared in a flash as he teleported to Sygil.

Momonga sighed. "I hope this works out well for us."

Ulbert and Peroroncino nodded sympathetically. Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter. I guess it's less of a rewrite and more a re-edit. Mostly dialogue tweaks, and adjusting my prose throughout. Rewrote a lot of the end section with Sygil's internal monologue. Next chapter will be 3-4 days again. Part of the reason it is taking time is because I am also working on new chapters that carry on from where the story left off. Still a WIP though :/  
> See you in 3-4ish days again when I upload the next rewritten chapter. And remember, feel free to critique or make suggestions.


	4. Playing the Devil's Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content.
> 
> Please note this chapter is less a rewrite and more a touch-up. See the end-notes for more details.

He honestly wondered if he made the right decision back then. He had a reason to drive him away from the guild initially, but upon reflection, maybe he was a little too harsh. It was just a game after all. Ulbert had disagreed with him back then, rather vocally as well, and even though he received some support from Momonga and many of the other members, he could tell that they were not completely in agreeance with him on the decision. After all, he had, ironically, done to another player what he wanted to initially prevent. Still, the past was the past, and no matter how he tried to justify his actions, it would often nag at him. That was why, when he first encountered Sygil, he saw it perhaps as an opportunity to make some amends. To psychologically atone for what he had done.

As much as he preached justice, he had come to accept that everyone has some flaws, and his was being judgemental nature. And that conflicted with Ulbert. It had created a rift in the guild. Even though people would try to deny it, try to say it was just two friends bickering, he could see it. However, he was too proud to admit it. But so was Ulbert. And since neither would cave into the other, the rift had widened.

He wanted to give Sygil a chance as he seemed to be a defensive player, once again targeted for being a cursed Heteromorph. Maybe not membership, but something for him to realise that not every player was out to do harm. However, his quest for self-atonement had been contradicted by Ulbert, who while he loathed to admit as it damaged his pride, had made a compelling argument. They did not know Sygil, who he was, what his real intentions were, or if he was even a legitimate player. And following a day of recollection of the prior events, he had to agree. He just wished it wasn't Ulbert to point it out, as he would use it as fuel to stoke the fire between them both even further. He personally detested the quarrels, but he refused to cave into Ulbert, so it was best to simply avoid him where possible. Unfortunately, not every wish is granted. So he soldiered on.

Perhaps agreeing to this with Sygil, no, _providing_ this opportunity for Sygil was a mistake. Logically, he knew better, but in his heart, he wanted to prove to himself that he still upheld his old values.

As he arrived at where Sygil was through the Beacon Ring, he steeled himself for a trap. _It's alright to be optimistic, but let's avoid making a mistake through our generosity._

He had several items equipped so that in the event of a trap, he could easily defend himself and call upon his guild members and summons. In the worst case scenario, he could teleport directly back into Nazarick.

_Even a cheater would have an extremely difficult time against several Level 100 players and NPCs._

* * *

Upon arrival, he was greeted by the sight of a lush forest and grassy fields on rolling hills. Standing before him was the suited player and objective of his, Sygil.

He could not see or detect anyone else present other than the two of them. However, he was a World Champion for a reason, so regardless, he kept his guard up.

"Greetings Touch-Me! I see you were able to come visit me. Is Ulbert with you by any chance?"

Sygil's friendly demeanour caught him somewhat off guard. He was half expecting the self-guarded attitude from him upon arrival at best, an ambush at worst, but he was pleasantly surprised.

"Hello, Sygil. I see you are all ready and waiting?"

Sygil gave a slight nod in confirmation, so Touch-Me continued.

"Good. Now, I have talked to the Guild-Master about the proposed deal, and he is willing to hear you out personally. I won't say much otherwise it will just be a repeat of what you will hear, but there is no guarantee the deal will continue as arranged. However, if it can be decided that you meet certain criteria, you will be contracted and in exchange, you will receive the information you want."

Sygil again nodded his head, a passive expression on his face as he stood there with his arms crossed.

"Now, however, before we go, I must warn you of a couple things," started Touch-Me seriously.

Sygil chuckled dryly. "What, if I attack you in your own base or steal anything I will face serious consequences?"

Tocuh-Me chuckled. "Likely, but no, we will be teleporting to the First Floor and proceed by foot to the throne room from there, so as to not incite a hostile reaction from the resident NPCs and Floor Guardians since you are not a guild-member. That goes without saying, any hostile actions will be met with extreme force from them if you produce any weapons or go wandering off by yourself, so stick with me or the other guild-members."

Sygil nodded in understanding as it clicked what he was saying. _The residents can be overly hostile to non-members so stick with the members to avoid being skewered in the back. I love this deal even more now._

"So, do you have any questions before we leave?"

Sygil paused for a moment before answering. "None now, but I can as any other questions during the meeting, correct?"

"Yes."

Sygil cracked a smirk. "Then I am all good."

Touch-Me stared at Sygil for a good few seconds, and Sygil began to wonder if something was wrong, his smirk faltering. "Is something wrong…." He trailed off before Touch-Me interrupted.

"No, nothing at all. We need to leave now if we wish to be on time. Follow me."

Touch-Me opened a large swirling portal, the height of two men stacked and half the width as he gestured for Sygil to enter. The portal swirled, an abyss of sickly deep purple and black.

Sygil followed Touch-Me into the portal, and next thing he knew, he was standing at the foot of a large, somewhat decrepit mausoleum, surrounded by many stone pillars and tombs. Further observation of his surroundings showed a large swamp , with many sickly and twisted trees and roots submerged in muddied and likely poisonous water. The tomb itself and the nearby surrounding land was fairly dry however, so he was at least fortunate his clothes were not sullied. _Actually, can my clothes be dirtied in a game?_

"Ahem. Welcome to the first floor of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Stick close and try not to die."

Sygil caught the dry humour and nodded as he followed the armoured player into the tomb.

Many pillars and twisted pathways greeted him as he reached the bottom of the steps. It was likely a maze of sorts. As if sensing his thoughts, Touch-me spoke up.

"These are the catacombs. The first three floors are mostly comprised of these, littered with numerous traps and dead-ends. The NPC's are mostly low-level but do their job regardless. Perhaps if you are lucky you will see the resident Floor Guardian."

"I'd love to," drawled Sygil, not overly interested.

They walked for a good fifteen minutes, taking secret passages and random teleports to different parts of the catacombs. They ran across the occasional patrol of undead skeletons and mages, placed in well-formed squads of eight minimum, but Touch-Me's presence allowed them to bypass without issue, the patrols hardly paying heed.

Sygil glanced at Touch-me in confusion. "Isn't it a little risky to lead an outsider through the tomb, showing them the path to your central base?"

Touch-Me chuckled in response. "You'd think so, but the first floor is alive, and frequently changes layout. This isn't a problem for members as we normally just teleport to the floor we want to be at, so we bypass all that."

"So why not teleport straight to our destination?"

"There are several safeguards to prevent that. Wards and mostly the NPCs. If an outsider not affiliated with the guild, such as yourself, were to teleport directly anywhere in the tomb, even with an escort, the NPC's would react violently to your sudden appearance, and while we can order them to cease an attack immediately after, it usually is too late. At least walking with a member prevents an attack."

"Seems a little convoluted if you ask me."

"We plan on changing that soon, but it is effective now. Prevents a random attack."

"But we technically have teleported to different parts of this tomb, correct?"

"Yes, but not to different floors, so you will be fine.Furthermore, we also have been using different teleportation means to ‘leap-frog’ around."

The rest of the walk was silent until they reached the end of the third floor. They were in a large room, with many support pillars, and a stairwell that led up to a large elegant wooden door. Blocking the door however, was a short, silver-haired… girl, Sygil assumed, with pale skin and a large 17th century purple ballroom dress, with a small parasol held daintily over her shoulder. As she descended down the stairs, Touch-Me slowed and began to comment.

"Ah. This is our resident Floor Guardian Shalltear Bloodfallen," he gestured to the NPC.

"Charmed to say the least," quipped Sygil sarcastically. "No offence, but she doesn't seem very intimidating for a Guardian."

Touch-Me chuckled, meanwhile Shalltear appeared to have an intense look on her face as she seemingly scrutinised Sygil.

"She is a Level 100 NPC, more than capable of decimating any group of intruders by herself." As they walked by, Shalltear stopped and gave a small bow before Touch-Me, but as Sygil passed, her glare seemed to intensify.

Sygil slowed down temporarily; he could swear this NPC was actually glaring at him. Unlike players, who he could only assume limited emotions, Shalltear's felt authentic. _Almost as if she is alive._

"You coming Sygil? Best not waste more time than necessary."

Sygil, picked up his pace towards Touch-Me as they both ascended the stairs, all the while feeling a glare boring down onto his back. _Freaky._

As they came to the top of the stairs, Touch-me opened the charmed door, revealing a frozen lake within a cavern expanse that expanded as far as the eye could see.

"We can teleport across the floor and arrive at the other side and proceed to the next floor. Just don't touch anything." It was more of an order than a suggestion, but Sygil accepted, he was the guest after all.

For the next short while, they went through the floors, encountering different NPCs and patrols, sometimes skipping areas to avoid traps. The eighth floor was avoided altogether, with the reason being too dangerous. As a result they had to teleport right into the ninth floor using another of Touch-Me's items. Fortunately, the room they teleported into was secluded, with one other player shaped like the grotesque version of the yellow bird from sesame street, just more vicious. Fortunately, there were no NPCs present to attack them or detect the presence of Sygil.

"So Touch-Me, is this our newest mercenary we're hiring?" started the birdman. "Maybe, Peroroncino, maybe. Is Hero-Hero here yet?"

The birdman, whom Sygil heard was called Peroroncino, merely shrugged his shoulders as he lounged on the en-suite sofa. "I dunno, might have to check with Momo in there."

Sygil was certain he could tell Touch-Me was sarcastically rolling his eyes in real-life. "I'll go check. Keep Sygil occupied and safe, will ya."

"Will do boss," saluted Peroroncino laxly. Touch-Me left the room, proceeding to Momonga and co. Meanwhile, Sygil took a seat adjacent to Peroroncino and began to take in his surroundings.

The lounge-suite was quite spacious, with high ceiling, red carpet, several doors along the walls, some small central tables and several lounges and chairs. A golden hue from the suspended candle-lights added a somewhat regal air to the room. While bland in some ways, it was certainly had its own aesthetic charms. In his opinion, it was quite nice.

"So, is there an issue between Ulbert and Touch-me?" inquired Sygil, more-so out of general curiosity than real concern.

"Ah, you noticed." Peroroncino shrugged as he leaned back. "Bit of bad blood between them, no secret that is."

"Any particular reason why," prompted Sygil.

"Not really any concern of yours." Shot back Peroroncino, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended.

Sygil didn't pry any further.

"So. You passed through the first three Floors I'm assuming. You meet Shalltear?" He sounded hopeful, so Sygil humoured him.

"Yes I did."

"She's perfect, isn't she."

Sygil hummed and hoed, and Peroroncino didn't like it.

"She isn't overly intimidating for a major guardian. Touch-Me said she is a Level 100, so maybe I am missing something."

"She isn't meant to be intimidating! At least not in the form she currently is in. No. I made her to look exquisite! Did you pay attention to her very flawless being?"

Sygil deadpanned, "No. I was too busy trying to stay near Touch-Me so said guardian wouldn't try to rip my throat out. Forgive me for my lack of observation."

"You have no respect," pouted Peroroncino.

The door opened and Touch-Me entered, clearing his voice to alert the two to his presence.

"We are ready. If you just follow me and we will head to the Throne Room where everyone else is." He did an about-face and walked back out.

Peroroncino stood up and gestured lazily for Sygil to follow. "C'mon. Papa bones awaits us." Sygil followed suit, musing over the likely inside joke that he was missing.

As they walked out of the suit, they passed by an NPC in a French maid outfit with blond hair that was dusting one of the paintings hanging on a nearby wall. The maid instantly turned to face group, bowing deeply and stepping out of their potential way.

As Sygil passed, however, he swore he could see a small frown of contempt on the NPCs face alongside a glare directed at him. A glare that, again, felt too real. As quickly as it happened, it was gone though and the maid was returning to her duties cleaning as the entourage of players left.

After some brief walking, they came to a large hallway, with an impressive set of dual doors, ornately designed.

"The guild-master awaits," muttered Peroroncino excitedly, which made Sygil feel less enthusiastic for some reason. Then, Touch-Me opened the doors.

* * *

Sygil had to admit, the sight before him, even though belonging purely in a game, was undoubtedly impressive. Dozens of massive support pillars adorned both sides of an equally massive regal carpet that led right up to set of distant steps. Dozens of banners with different emblems hung from the pillars, and a large, beautiful chandelier hung from the high ceiling. At the top of the steps sat a large throne. Overall, the room itself had a dark yet regal feeling to it. As if it belonged to the royalty of the devil's court instead of a virtuous king. Regardless, it was beautiful to look at.

As they approached he throne, several figures were noticeable by it. The first was Ulbert. Next to him was purple, slimy non-humanoid being. On the throne, the guild-master presumably, sat a large skeleton with sharper features and a ridiculously proportioned robe, with two skeletal…. Things? Jutting out and over his shoulders. A glowing red orb lay within his rib-cage, exposed just underneath. Finally, stood a woman in white robes with horns and black, feathered wings. He assumed she was also an NPC by the intense glare being directed his way. _De ja vu all over. I am getting the feeling I am not exactly welcome._

"Ah, so you must be, Sygil? Was it?" Questioned the skeleton.

"Correct. I presume you are the guild-master, and the one who will be deciding whether our deal goes through?"

"Ah yes, I am. First, let us introduce each other fully. I am Momonga, an Overlord and Guild-Master of Ains Ooal Gown, and you are currently within the great tomb of Nazarick! This is Hero-Hero, an Elder Slime," he gestured to the slime, who made a crude waving gesture with his … hand? Slime hand? Momonga continued regardless.

"I believe you have met the World Destroyer Ulbert Alain Odle, and the World Champion Touch-Me," Sygil nodded. "And lastly, Peroroncino."

There was a brief pause, and Sygil realised it was his turn to introduce himself fully. _Bloody theatrical lot!_

He curtsied a bow, a small smile on his face. "Sygil Amadeus. At your service. I am currently looking for information, and according to Touch-Me, we were likely able to work out a deal that is beneficial to both parties."

"Ah yes, so I've been told." Momonga mulled it over, placing a bony hand on his sharp chin. "In-game information concerning holy entities and associated elementals in exchange for mercenary work."

Sygil waited patiently. He had to now. "I think we can work towards something, however. We will need to clarify the entire conditions of the deal, as well as know who we are dealing with."

"Exactly. Don't want an unknown thief stealing from us again," interjected Ulbert.

"That is fine," stated Sygil matter-of-factly.

"So," Peroroncino clapped his hands, or feathered limbs, an audible clap being heard. "Let's start, shall we?"

"Yes…" trailed Momonga thoughtfully. "So what exactly is it you specifically want, Sygil?"

"I am looking for information on all holy entities, including but not limited to weaponry, tactics, abilities, class and levels. Anything even associated remotely with holy entities, I want. If you have a library, I would request unlimited access to it?"

"Hmm. And why exactly do you want such information. That information is hard to get by in-game and on forums. Why turn to us specifically?"

"Easy. Your members were the first non-hostile ones I encountered. We did a trade of information and Touch-Me," he gestured to the player, "offered a potential proposal."

Ulbert shook his head in amusement. "Yes. However, nothing is set in stone. We, Ains Ooal Gown, have a wealth of knowledge. Having said that, we are not willing to provide it easily without something of equal value or greater in return. What can you offer?"

While both parties knew the answer, it was more of a reaffirmation that Sygil understood at least the basic conditions of the potential deal.

"It was mentioned that you are looking for mercenaries to do some dirty work. I am more than willing to help, ah, _alleviate_ any problems your guild may have. All I ask for is unlimited access to your library." The slight predatory grin didn't go un-noticed by everyone.

"That seems fair enough, however, I think if we were to grant you access to our library, you would need to do more than one task for us. I think a go-to mercenary on immediate call is a fair trade, since you are wanting information. Information which may take time to acquire. Information, which we are not willing to squander so readily to others over _one_ task." Momonga made a fair point, everyone agreed, so Ulbert continued where he left off.

"However, you are also an unknown. We hear you took on several Level 40's and even a level 70, supposedly, with no real issues. All while at Level 1. While we will discuss the authenticity of this soon enough, we have no first-hand experience with you at all. Therefore, you must perform at least one successful initial mission for us before we consider granting you access to our library." There was an accusatory undertone that Sygil picked up.

"I can do that. Just give me the task, and I will deal with whoever you want dealt with."

Before anyone could comment, Momonga absently waved a hand. "We can get into that later. First. We need to know more about you. And I mean everything. All we have is a name. And honestly, many of us, myself included, doubt your authenticity."

Sygil cocked his head slightly, innocently inquiring, though it was obvious it was hardly innocent in tone and direction. "Why is that?"

Hero-Hero started. Sygil honestly had a harder read on Hero-Hero due to his lack of audible emotion. Whether intentional, or masked by the game itself, Sygil deduced he would need to be somewhat more cautious with answering to him. The other players openly displayed their emotions, carried through in their voices and gestures. As such, he could more easily predict their likely behaviours and overall demeanour. Hero-Hero though…. He would have to wait and see.

"You are currently a Level 1 player. You lack the skill points necessary to safely and easily combat players of significant higher ranks than yourself. And honestly. A group of Level 40's, while easy for all of _us_ , should have wiped the floor with you. Not the exact opposite."

Peroroncino made an 'ahh' sound as he finally understood what the issue was concerning Sygil.

"Yes. How exactly did you defeat them then?" The scrutiny in Momonga's question was obvious.

_They're suspicious of me beating a bunch of idiotic gamers? I was stronger and smarter than them! How else do you – oh. I wasn't supposed to due to my levels. Ah._

"I outsmarted them. Simple as that. I used better tactics in the face of their none other than charge and rush me. All I had to do was send my summons to divide and conquer. A task they did quite marvellously." Considering it was a fantasy game and two of the guild-members had already seen his summons, there was no harm in mentioning them. He could write it off as an in-game summon.

"Regardless, those must be pretty high-level summons for a Level 1 to beat Level 40s. How did you acquire them?"

"I don't know Ulbert, I was given them at the start of the game when I created an, ah, account." His response sounded believable. He just hoped they would all buy it and move on to another topic.

* * *

Touch-Me was watching Sygil closely, standing next to him and all, and he noticed something again that he had observed several times. Sygil's changing facial expressions. While an available in-game technology, it wasn't perfect nor readily available. It required several additional programs to enable, and even then, it still wasn't perfect. Ulbert seemed to notice as he opened up a private chat between all present guild-members.

_Ulbert: Is it me, or does his facial features keep moving? I thought I noticed something strange about him when we first met._

_Touch-Me: Yes, they are._

_Peroroncino: Nice to see you two finally agreeing on something for once._

_Momonga: Could that be related to why he managed to beat those Level 40's you mentioned?_

_Touch-Me: Possibly. It requires external software, unless it is already enabled? I think. I am not exactly well versed in the technical aspect of the game._

_Hero-Hero: Maybe ask him about it then?_

_Momonga: Yes._

* * *

Sygil waited for about a minute as the players seemed to have a silent conversation, judging by their movements and his lack of being able to hear them, until Momonga spoke out.

"Why do you have animated facial features and expressions, Sygil?"

"Hmm?" The questions caught him off-guard. He honestly didn't know he wasn't supposed to. Again. _Argh! This fucking game is becoming more of a hassle than anything. This payoff better be worth it._

"I am unsure. I am kinda new to the game, so I wouldn't be too sure." He tried to act calm, sincere and genuinely confused, more so because he didn't feel like any potential dilemma from his lack of knowledge. What was the word gamers used to explain things… _DEVELOPER!_

"Probably a feature that one of the developers made for my race?" He offered. The group of players seemed to mull it over. _That oughta work._

* * *

_Momonga: I can lodge a request to the developers to do a check on Sygil's profile to determine the presence of any additional software that could manipulate the game, as well as check if the account is legitimate?_

_Hero-Hero: Wait, you can do that?_

_Ulbert: Yes. Players and guilds with high enough rep can request that from the devs. They won't release any stats or information on the players, just verify if it is legitimate. I think that is a good idea Momonga._

_Momonga: Yes. However, it could take a few days until the request is processed._

_Ulbert: So in the mean-time we use Sygil as a mercenary to help reclaim our mine, and once he checks out or not, we can discard him if we see fit._

_Peroroncino: Whoa up a minute Ulbert! I thought you said this guy was fishy to begin with? Why are we hiring him? Won't that damage our reputation?_

_Touch-Me: I have to agree with Peroroncino. While our guild is 'evil', we can't resort to using cheaters to win!_

_Ulbert: (Snort) Then perhaps you shouldn't have suggested hiring him. At least I am suggesting a use for him that won't actually_ destroy _our guild._

_Momonga: Guys, please. Can we not go into this again._

_Hero-Hero: So we hire him regardless, and if he checks out, honour our end of the deal. If not, wipe our hands clean. Win-win either way for us?_

_Touch-Me: And only for him if he is legitimate. (Sigh) I guess I can work with this._

_Momonga: Then it is decided! I suggest we finish this conversation and return to our questioning of Sygil to determine his suitability._

_All: Yes._

* * *

The group's silence was indicative of a private conversation between them, so he let them be. He could be patient. He hoped, regardless, that the outcome would be beneficial.

As the players turned to face him, he rose a brow. "So, are you contracting my services or not?"

Momonga let loose a small chuckle. "Eager I see. Yes. We will contract your services until we deem them unnecessary."

The souring of Sygil’s expression was noticed by everyone, and Hero-Hero expressed his curiosity.

"Is something wrong Sygil?"

"Nothing. Just remember being told something similar once before in the real world. A bad deal with shitty consequences. I’d like to hope that you wouldn’t try the same?"

 _Well this just got awkward_ , thought Momonga in confusion. However, that train of thought ended as Sygil continued.

"Regardless, I am ready to uphold my end of the deal. So long as you uphold yours."

"Yes, well," coughed Touch-Me. "To get into specifics, we have an immediate use for you concerning one of the guild's stolen properties."

"One of our mines was recently captured by a guild called Seraph. We intend on reclaiming the mine, and making an example of the players who stole from us," Momonga clenched his fist in anger as he continued from where Touch-Me left off.

"In essence," started Ulbert, "we need someone to be the face of our assault to help pave the way in for us and our forces. Considering your recently displayed skill, you should be able to help us."

Ulbert explained further. "You will act as bait and help lure out any of the lower-level players and NPCs out to deal with. Once they are lured out, we can enter through the front door with a loud bang and smash-and-grab essentially. We," he gestured to his fellow guild-members, "will take care of any high-ranked players, while you and our own NPC's will mop up all of the majority. Leave any players you encounter alive, if possible, so we can make an example of them." There was a sadistic tone in his voice, and Sygil somewhat delighted in it, even if he didn't overly care for Ulbert himself. However, Sygil saw several glaring flaws in the plan.

"Isn't a full-frontal assault risky? You are aiming to reclaim the mine correct- " "-Yes. However, we intend to demoralise them _and_ any future players from ever assaulting us again by using a show of overwhelming firepower to crush any major defences."

"So why use me? I am, using your words, an _unknown_? Isn't that a little risky."

"I'm going to be blunt with you Sygil," interrupted Momonga. Somehow, Sygil respected that. He preferred people that were blunt and open with their intentions and dealings concerning him, rather than trying to secretly manipulate him. "Your only use is to bear the brunt of their defences with some of our NPCs so that we can fight any remaining players at full capacity for an utter annihilation. We will assist where need be, but our priority is reclaiming the mine and making an example of the players. Yours is to distract and occupy as many defenders as possible to allow us victory."

"Won't that place me at a disadvantage, being severely outnumbered and all?"

Hero-Hero spoke forth. "As a Level 1, you decimated a squad of Level 40 players with relative ease. Consider this a trial by fire to determine your suitability for future mercenary work."

Somehow, Sygil believed there was more to it than that.

Noticing Sygil's silence, Ulbert took a gamble, mustering us much authority into his voice as possible. "If you don't want that information so desperately, we can look for another mercenary to do the job."

Sygil stopped, pondering his options. _Rather brazen ultimatum. I could refuse, potentially preserving my life. But, then I lose information and risk certain death in the future. Hmm. It is just a game after all. Death might not even occur._

"Very well. I accept. However, I want as much information concerning this mines defences as possible. It will make my job much easier and grant us an easier victory if we know what to expect."

"That can be arranged, however, it will not be entirely accurate," concurred Momonga with a small nod of his head.

"Hm." Sygil slowly nodded his head as he considered what Momonga said. "So. When are you planning on reclaiming the mine?"

Touch-Me took several steps up to the throne, before turning and facing Sygil. "We are planning tomorrow evening. Since it is the weekend tomorrow, we can all participate on the raid. However, so will the majority of Seraph. It will ultimately be a matter of who is the better player. Something I think Ains Ooal Gown will prove to Seraph and the rest of the community. Just remember to do your part."

While he personally disagreed with a full frontal assault, due to personal and professional experience, he didn't call the shots. He was, after all, just a hired hand. He would help them win the fight on the ground, but it didn't mean he agreed with the planning. Besides, it was just a game after all. _A game that may hold information to help heal my injury._

"I look forward to working alongside you," smiled Sygil slightly. "As do we," bowed Touch-Me respectfully, who was followed by several nods from Ulbert and Hero-Hero. Momonga remained impassive, just sitting there, as if gauging Sygil. Meanwhile, Peroroncino took a step forward, exclaiming happily. "Well, that sorts this order of business I reckon. So I guess the meeting is now adjoined?" Touch-Me sighed. "You mean adjourned. And that is up for Momonga to decide." He faced the guild-master who, suddenly put in the spotlight, felt nervous.

"Yes, well, um. First off, we would like to know a little bit more about you, Sygil. What do you do for a living?"

Judging by everyone's presumed focus on him again, Sygil suspected they were all eager. Before he opened his mouth and likely inserted his own foot, he briefly contemplated on what to tell them. He didn't need to tell them anything, but that could damage his reputation with them. _Not that it exactly is anything spectacular right now._ However, he also hated lying. Then again, he didn't _want_ to tell them anything about him at all.

"I'd rather not say, thank you very much. I like to keep my life a little private from those who it does not exactly concern."

The woman beside the throne seemed to intensify her seething glare however. How no-one noticed was beyond him.

Ulbert spoke up. "We need to know what you do for a living if you want to work for us. It's a policy of ours that we only associate with productive members of society."

Sygil stared apprehensively, before finally relenting, seeing as he was going to get nowhere.

_Besides, I suppose it can't hurt to drop a little bit._

"I was in the military. Retired now, though. Now I work in the, ah, _cleaning_ department."

_Oh if only they knew what the ‘cleaning’ department is…._

Oddly enough, no-one bothered to speak or question what Sygil had proclaimed. Momonga only nodded slightly in acceptance.

"Then this meeting is over now. We look forward to seeing you in action tomorrow, Sygil. Someone will teleport you out of Nazarick, and when you are ready tomorrow, we will teleport to the guild."

Sygil didn't have time to respond, as Touch-Me suddenly opened a portal, its inky black and purple swirling abyss becoming familiar. Said player gestured for him to enter, and he had little choice but to enter. _Perhaps I answered with haste?_ Regardless, the decision was made now, and as he entered the portal, all could do was wait and prepare for the coming battle.

* * *

Once Touch-Me and Sygil had left the throne room, Momonga let loose a sigh of relief.

"A soldier huh. That's actually commendable," nodded Peroroncino. The other guild members nodded, though Ulbert was quick to add.

"If he's telling the truth that is."

"We'll see, I guess," replied Momonga.

"So, that was interesting, to say the least," commented Hero-Hero somewhat in amusement.

"Indeed. Urgh. Now I have to send a request to the devs."

Hero-Hero patted Momonga's back with his slime appendages, hoping to reassure the distressed Guild-master. "It'll be fine Momonga. By the time the battle is done, we can compare what the devs have to say with what we witness."

"Indeed," nodded Ulbert, his taloned arms crossed. "I suggest that we prepare ourselves for the raid tomorrow. Once we are done, I want to go mob-farming for some more XP points."

Momonga chuckled, "Yes. Indeed. I can always count on you all."

Even though it couldn't be seen due to the in-game restrictions on their avatars, Momonga was certain Peroroncino was smiling. "Always Momonga."

* * *

"Remember to wear the ring tomorrow so we can pick you up and take you to the mine," reminded Touch-Me before he entered the portal, returning to Nazarick.

Sygil was now left alone on the grassy plains he was originally picked up on.

He was aware he needed to be ready for the raid tomorrow, and with nothing else to do in the mean-time, he realised it was a good idea to test out whether or not his injury had in fact halted or still was progressing. The only way to do that was to leave the game and enter the real world again. He just needed to figure out how to leave the game now.

Fortunately, such a mystery was easy to resolve upon opening the menu with a flick of his wrist. He pressed the 'Exit' button, curious as to if it would indeed work for him, or if he would need to call an exorcist somehow to help remove him from the game. Luck was on his side, this time, however. He could see a white-flash and the game world rapidly disintegrate before his eyes, and before he knew it, he was in his apartment, the headset dropping from his hands onto the floor.

He had little time to celebrate, however, as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his infected shoulder, gritting his teeth in pain as a surge of fresh pain washed over his injury. It was momentarily agonising, however. As quickly as it came it faded away, until only a dull throbbing could be felt.

Grunting in pain, he slowly stood up to his full height before straightening his creased suit. His gloved fingers grazed the hole in his jacket. "Gotta get this shit sorted out too." He took a breath to compose himself.

_Okay. First thing, get a fucking suit that doesn't have a bloody hole in it. Literally. After that, maybe get something to eat, then hit a library or something. Hopefully Asphaestus is gone._

Ignoring the small mess of cables tangled by the dropped headset, he strode to a closed wardrobe, opening the wooden door with an audible creak. Inside were two more complete sets of suits, jackets and dress shirts with pants, shoes, boots, belts, watches, necklaces.

After finding an appropriate suit, he proceeded to the bathroom to change. As he entered, he began to remove them before the mirror so he could undo the roller bandage still wrapped around his shoulder and chest. A small bloodstain had formed on the bandage, so after exchanging it for a newer one, he removed it. There currently were no visible signs of the holy injury having exacerbated, much to his relief, though it still felt a little tender when he flexed it.

After redressing the injury, he adorned a fresh suit, an exact copy of his previous. Once he was completely dressed again, his mind wandered to what he wanted to eat. Or rather, where he should go to eat.

As an immortal demon, he didn't require basic necessities such as mortal food, water or sleep even. They were more-so optional luxuries for him to indulge in in his leisure, much like someone would indulge in chocolate for the sweet flavour, drugs for a high, or sex for physical pleasure. Even though he could indulge in and experience such things also, they were non-essential, and therefore ultimately low on his priorities.

No, he required _real_ food that would provide him the energy required. Soul energy. And soul energy came from consuming souls. The problem was, killed souls offered very minimal energy, with each acting as a mere crumb. Enough to temporarily sate one's hunger for a short while, but not enough for the long-term. It would take over a thousand souls to fill his hunger. And he didn't have the time to kill over a thousand people and consume their souls. That would result in a mass mortal police pursuit which would hinder his progress, even if somewhat manageable through more violent means. It would also likely attract the attention of nearby Angels.

Killing a thousand people who likely did him no harm was not really worth it, and even somewhat tugged at what was left of his heart. However, he crushed those feelings. _After all, all humans have the potential to do great harm._ That didn't mean he was heartless, just realistic. Since mass killing and feeding was out of the question, even though he wouldn't _not_ consider it if push came to shove, he had to resort to the other means. He would have to make a contract. Or find someone who had directly killed enough people give him extra soul energy. The problem was, he didn't want to bind himself to a contract that could take potentially years to fulfil. He needed his meal _now_ , and his injury needed to be healed _now_.

_Guess I need to find someone with enough kills under their belt that can provide me with the soul energy needed._

The best choices for such targets were veteran soldiers, particularly in war-torn areas. Sadly, that choice was off the menu due to no nearby wars on the continent, and the nearest veteran likely over a hundred kilometres away. The next best choice, in some ways even better, was a criminal kingpin. Politicians weren't a good choice as their death could upset the balance of power, which might affect any potential future contracts. Plus, they made the most promising and interesting deals in a bid for greater power and wealth. _Short-sighted fools, hehe._ No, a criminal **kingpin** would do nicely. And he knew just the person nearby.

In the downtown parts resided a notorious criminal gang. Nothing too big, just a small-time gang of the usual rapists, murderers and thieves. Stupid lot, frankly, but more than sufficient. They all had taken several lives each, particularly their leader, so he would a have a decent feed which could last him a short while until he was healed. Afterwards, he could create a contract with a more notable figure in a bid to acquire a complete soul. The gang would be no major loss, and due to where they resided, Local Law Enforcement would not be a problem, not that he intended on sticking around long enough to be busted.

With a plan in mind, he went back to his bedroom, dumping the bloodied clothes into the laundry room floor. He could clean them later when he had time. He had several backup suits to wear in the meantime. _After all, one must be dressed professionally to kill_. He smirked at that thought. He personally just found suits to be rather classy and professional looking. It made him appear civilised, cultured, the whole lot. Not just some mindless brute. Not to mention the improved reputation when conducting _business_.

Upon entering the room, he opened another adjacent wardrobe on the other side of the room from the closet containing his suits. A vague smile adorned his face as he looked fondly upon the toys in his closet.

He didn't just reside in this house to just lie low. No, this was one of his many safehouses. Within each safehouse were enough weapons, munitions and money to help him get by in the mortal world, and even start a small war.

In the right corner leaned an AK-104, while in the left leaned the Finnish Sako TRG-42 bolt action sniper rifle, chambered for .338 Lapau Magnum. While he could summon his own guns, which were likely more powerful due to being imbued with Unholy elements, he still preferred a more modern arsenal due to his prior military heritage when he was a mortal. He personally found modern weapons to be more reliable, versatile and effective due to a ranged capacity as opposed to melee weapons preferred by other supernatural entities. While the two rifles would not be **as** effective against angels or other demons, they were quite effective against other mortals. Even still, they had some practical use against other demons and angels, especially those that were unprepared.

He preferred the AK-103 due to its more compact size, while still being able to fire the 7.62x39 calibre round, which he found vastly superior to the old NATO 5.56x45mm round from his military service days. The round had greater penetration against armoured targets and packed a heftier punch. The Finnish sniper rifle, again was favoured due to its high-calibre round, .338 Lapau Magnum. While a Barrett M82 would be more powerful due to the .50 calibre round fired, it wasn't as mobile nor practical to transport. Additionally, .338 was more than sufficient against long range targets. That and his summonable guns were the equivalent of grenade-launchers in terms of damage output, especially to mortals. One of the advantages of imbuing Unholy elements into bullets and weapons. The downside was, it would hurt like hell to be shot by his own weapon. At least mortal guns would only leave a flesh wound at worst. One of the benefits of immortality.

The advantage to using the 'mortal' rifles was the availability of ammo, and the easy way to blame attacks on someone else. After all, who would waltz into a meth-factory and shoot everyone up with a lever-action? It was impractical, and would leave a noticeable trail behind. One that supernatural entities could follow. He cared little for the 'mortals' being able to trace him. He could always kill anyone sent after him or just teleport out using his shadows.

The only problem was he couldn't summon the rifles. All weapons had to be 'treated' in order to be summoned, and heavier-grain weapons and scopes, especially with electrical components and fibres and related optics with magnifications tended to be rather difficult to transpose into a summonable form. It took him a great deal of time, energy, effort and understanding in order to transpose the handguns and revolvers alongside his lever-action, and that was mostly due to their simpler nature. Revolving cylinders and levers where much easier to materialise than high density and volatile powders and bullets, let alone the complicated inner workings of optic fibres and lasers . How the guns he did use actually managed to work was a miracle unto itself, but he never had any further luck, so he stuck to transposing mostly melee weapons, such as swords, knives, axes, halberds, spiked chains and the lot due to their simple designs. As a result, however, he needed to spend many years learning how to properly use said weapons, as sometimes a gun wasn't enough. Even then, he wasn't fully versed in everything. But it was better than nothing, if a little overkill. At least he had his hounds to keep him company and assist.

While shadow manipulation could do a lot, he preferred the hounds due to their sentience. He could summon an entire shadow army if he wanted to theoretically, the problem was having enough darkness present. That and the army would be mostly mindless, only able to act as a basic third eye or engage in melee combat. That combat skill was directly linked to his own martial arts abilities and competence with bladed weaponry. If he sucked, so did they. That provided another incentive to train. Shame he never attempted to use them however. Then again, having a literal army of darkness would attract much more attention than a couple shadow-hounds. Regardless, he developed a high proficiency in physical combat skills, including self-defence and other martial arts, knife and swordsmanship, firearms training and tactics training, though the latter was mostly when he used to operate in squads in the military.

For this, a mortal weapon would suffice for the reasons mentioned. Not to mention, it was always fun to go into an armed crime-den and, what was the phrase again… _fuck shit up_. For this, the AK-103 would be more than effective. Plus, it would help him blow off some steam. Although, going in Rambo-style might not necessarily be the wisest choice. The bullets could ruin his suit again, and he didn't want that again. And unfortunately, he didn't have any Kevlar armour laying around anymore. While mostly useless against higher tier Holy and Unholy weaponry, it was effective against many mortal guns. Many, not all. A .50 BMG green-tip still hurt like a bitch, even for a mortal gun. Mostly because it fucked up his suit. It was a shame clothes were not as durable as some armours.

 _Guess shadow teleportation will be the main move of the night._ Letting loose his hounds, while more efficient, would mean they, the hounds, would claim and consume the souls, not him.

Grabbing the AK-103 and two spare magazines, he closed the closet door and went to the kitchen, flicking on the dim fluorescent light. The kitchen was sparse, with only a single vase on the small circular table. There was no food in the fridge as he didn't _need_ to eat mortal food. A perk.

Setting the rifle on the table with the two magazines, he grabbed a magnetic map of the suburb of the city he was in.

 _Fucking wish these maps covered more than just **A** suburb. How about the whole damn city!_ Crumpling the map up and tossing it onto a nearby counter-top, he walked back to his AK-103.

_Guess I need to go there by memory._

The sun was gone outside, replaced with a full moon that illuminated anywhere its light could touch.

Ignoring the light cast by the moons reflectivity, he tried to memorise the gang's specific base location. He remembered they were in the downtown part of the city. If he was correct, they were just four blocks south of an old service-station. Adjacent to their hideout was an abandoned auto-wrecker and car-scrapping yard. It would take him an hour walk to get to the downtown part of the city. Then another 40 minutes to get the old service-station. All up, possibly two hours to get there, and another two to get back. The 'feast', so to put it, should only take 15 minutes, maybe 20 if he had to deal with runners. That was being lenient though, it would probably be over in five minutes. But since he was using an automatic weapon which was honestly quite loud, Law Enforcement could be called to investigate. And he really didn't want to kill any of them as it would result in a big chase and investigation which would hinder his progress. Fortunately, the nearest police station was a fair ways away, so he would have time to leave before they arrived. Furthermore, because of the gang's isolated location, all the 'good' people didn't live nearby so they weren't as likely to invite a figurative bear into their own den. All he had to deal with was likely 20 crazed and drug-addicted murderers. Plus the additional neighbouring fools who might want to intervene and capitalise on the assault on the gang.

Sighing, he picked up the assault rifle, inspecting it carefully before deeming it to be satisfactorily clean and fit for service.

Pocketing the two spare magazines inside his suit-jacket, he straightened his tie and turned off the kitchen lights.

After closing the apartment door and locking it, he went down the worn and decrepit stairs, a single flickering street light illuminating only a small area at the base of the apartment which met with the street road. Most of the nearby apartments were dark also, their occupants either sleeping or non-existent.

After checking that both sides of the street were clear, he began his brisk walk to the downtown slums.

_Time to pay Vessie a visit._

* * *

Vessie was a lowlife that fit many of the criminal stereotypes. A lithe woman of African-American descent, what she lacked in brawn she made up in brutality. A ragged jacket covered her torso, while the missing shoulders ripped at the seams exposed long dark arms with many black tribal tattoos. Ripped jeans with scuffed brown combat boots, both of which housed a switch-blade or two. A leather belt held two holsters and a combat knife sheathe. Several tribal necklaces, ranging from extracted animal fangs and claws, to coloured beads and pearls adorned her neck. Fingerless gloves with studded knuckles added to the intimidation factor. The sides of her head were clean-shaven, while the top was a knotted mass of lengthy braided hair which cascaded beyond shoulder length.

Intelligence-wise, she wasn't anything special, but in the modern age, one didn't need to be smart to be effective. After-all, a bullet coupled with a brutal and psychotic behaviour were enough for anyone to be wary around.

Morality-wise, she was disturbed, to say the least. Her criminal history included murder, home-invasion, armed robbery, rape, money-laundering, human-trafficking, torture and many others. However, due to her volatile nature, she never ascended higher in the criminal underworld, thus leaving her with her despondent gang of similar thieves, murderers and rapists. And that was the reason he wanted her and her merry little gang as the feast for tonight.

The sheer amount of souls brutalised and killed by her and her lackeys, while nowhere comparable to other more notorious criminals, was more than sufficient to hold him over for a decent month or two even.

He had encountered her in the past on a previous contract years before. Before his contractor… _fulfilled_ his end of the deal. Needless to say, she was interested in contracting his skills as an enforcer. When he turned her down, however, due to the fact it would result in two conflicting contracts which could not be both upheld, she grew quite angry, and only through the intervention of his contractor had she narrowly avoided being skewered by a manipulated shadow from behind. However, she had tried to still contract him after he finished the contract, only to not be able to access him.

Should he really turn down the opportunity for a possible contract, which would prove more beneficial in the long-run? He had considered it, but ultimately found himself not wanting to be associated with either her or her despondent gang. That, and she was more than likely to attempt to stab him in the back sooner rather than later. Key word being _attempt_.

* * *

After several hours of walking, he finally arrived at the dilapidated apartment complex/warehouse hybrid building, which was ugly as hell if he was being honest with himself, adjacent from the auto-wrecker car yard. Several silhouettes could be seen near some of the vaguely-lit windows, holding what looked like make-shift spears, clubs, and even a few guns amongst them.

"HEY! Motherfucker! Get the fuck on the ground, bitch, and put 'em where I can see em! Got that asshole!"

 _Charming way to start a conversation,_ he thought sarcastically.

The person addressing him was also black, with a stained white singlet, blue jeans, and a backwards baseball cap. He was thrusting a small revolver in his direction, holding it sideways like an absolute moron. _Gangster style is it?_ He mused.

Ignoring him, he continued walking, holding his AK-103 proudly in plain sight.

"OI! I'm talking to you bitch!"

The commotion seemed to get some more attention from the gang-members in the building.

Sygil cleared his throat before calmly speaking. "Do me a favour and please go fetch your boss, Vessie. Tell her, Sygil is here. She'll understand."

"Bitch, I don't think you understand who the fuck you're talkin' to! Get on the ground and gimme your shit, now!" By now, the goon was in his face. Either he was brave enough to approach someone with an AK in their hand, or he was dumb enough not to care. As tempting as it was to shoot the dickhead and get the show started, he wanted to confirm Vessie was here, and what better way than to start some commotion.

Before the thug could react, he brought to stock of the gun into his face, breaking his nose and jaw with an audible crack. He crumpled to the ground in a silent heap, likely unconscious.

"I'll only be asking one more time, get Vessie." This time, it was with more authority in his voice. Several of the silhouettes scrambled inside, while others raised their weapons, likely guns, at him.

He didn't need to wait long, as Vessie came storming to one of the windows.

"Sygil?! What the fuck you think you're doing showing your ass here mutha-fucka!" A loud, Spanish accent bellowed out from the balcony.

"I'm here to do a trade of sorts. You interested?" He cocked an eyebrow, even though it was hard to see with the few street-lights nearby.

Her tone sounded gleeful upon hearing that. More than likely if he did do a trade, she would accept what he had, kill him and then retrieve what she gave him. "Hell yeah! You thinking of finally joining me and ascendin' to powah! With your help we can wipe the fuck outta the De Vici’s and Saracenos!"

_HELL. NO!_

"Maybe. You gonna let me in so we can discuss the deal better?" So far he counted seven individuals, excluding unconscious idiot and Vessie. Three had rifles from what he could make out, and two had handguns. The rest appeared to have melee, though he didn't discount them yet.

_These people are fucking idiots! You don't just let someone with an AK waltz up to your home. Granted, I shouldn't really be going up to the front door without a care in the world. Eh. Matters not in a minute._

"Alrighty, but you need to let my boys check you for any guns you might be concealing!"

_Do these dickheads not really see the **fucking rifle** in my hands! I get its dark, but Jesus Christ, no wonder you lot aren't running the bigger syndicates like the Saraceno’s. You people are absolute morons!_

"No offence, but I don't trust these idiots to do their job properly." Some of the gang-members bristled at that, meanwhile Vessie laughed.

"That's what I like about you Sygil! You don't show fear! You really are a cocky bastard aren't ya."

Sygil rolled his eyes. "Just open the fucking door already, will you?" He was getting impatient.

* * *

**Recommended: 08. Alexey Omelchuk – Call of Pripyat OST – Combat Theme 1**

* * *

"Oi! Just because I admire your cockiness, doesn't mean you get to order me around and demand shit! Got that motherfucker!" Her sudden snap in attitude suddenly made the area tense.

"Neither does being an asshole to me make you better than me."

"Bitch, you better tread reeaaal fucken' careful now, ya hear me." There was an edge to her voice now, and judging by the way she was fingering something by hip, she was fairly close to wanting to kill him now.

"Welp. Seeing as you aren't going to be a nice host and open the door for me…" the sound of a bolt being racked on his gun rang through the air. "I guess I'm just going to have open it myself."

Before anyone could react, he opened fire with his gun. Automatic gun-fire rained on the balcony, killing three gangsters quickly, while the rest ducked down to avoid being shredded the lethal rounds.

Vessie's voice suddenly screamed out from behind cover in pure unadulterated rage, moreso directed at her henchmen that Sygil. "WHAT THE FUCK! IS THIS MOTHERFUCKER CRAZY!"

Several more rounds tore through the building walls, and several grunts of pain could be heard. It didn't take long, however, before the gangsters started returning fire. Fortunately, it was mostly with handguns and sawn-off shotguns, and their aim was piss-poor.

After expiring the magazine, with professional ease Sygil pulled the magazine out, pocketed it and slapped a new one in.

In the momentary confusion and panic, he ducked into the shadows. But not before putting a single round into the head of the unconscious gangbanger on the ground.

He strode towards the door with only a single purpose in mind; to kill them all and collect their souls, or at least the remnants of it.

The door smashed open with a well-placed kick, and single gunshot rang loud throughout the first floor as brain-matter exploded from another unfortunate henchman.

* * *

"Where the fuck is that asshole!" raged Vessie to her men once the gunfire had ceased. The sound of a door several floors below being smashed open and a single gunshot alerted her to what Sygil was doing.

Standing up with rage, she snarled to herself. "Motherfucker's in the building!" While not overly intelligent, her henchmen were smart enough to know to head downstairs and intercept Sygil. Several more gunshots could be heard from Sygil's gun, though this time they were more controlled, and likely more precise.

"Uh boss, what are" – "SHUTUP! Shut the fuck up, and go down there and kill the prick!"

The henchmen just nodded dumbly and stumbled down the stairs.

Rolling her eyes, she produced a cigarette and lit it. Inhaling, she tried to savour the feeling of the smoke, while trying to drown out the sounds of gunfire below her. _The audacity of this asshole to show up at_ my _base and attack me!_

* * *

Sygil cleared the first floor with relative ease, weaving in and out of door-ways, traversing hallways, and popping of controlled single-shots to the henchmen's heads with considerable accuracy. With each passing kill, he could feel remnants of their soul escaping towards him, ready to sate his hunger. However, they weren't enough. He could feel his blood-lust rising. He wanted to get to Vessie _now_ so he could take her soul! He wanted it all for himself!

Another henchman peeked around the corner, only to be met with a bullet to the face.

Because he only brought two spare magazines and emptied his third, he had to be frugal with his ammo and make sure his shots were accurate. In a sense, it was decent target practice. However, it was taking too long.

As he came to the end of a hallway, he was met with a set of stairs which ascended to the next floor. Vessie was on the fourth floor, and if he didn't hurry, she would escape his grasp.

Racing up the stairs, he was met with three henchmen with automatic rifles. With insane reactions, both parties immediately opened automatic fire on each-other while ducking to the side walls for cover.

Sygil narrowly missed being hit, however his attempt to avoid being shot meant his shots went wild. Fortunately, a couple did find their mark.

One henchman went down with a pained scream, clutching his mangled shoulder, while another's fingers were blown clean off, forcing him to drop the gun.

Peeking from one of the nearby pillars, Sygil opened fire on the third henchman, only for a single bullet to leave and then click dry. The bullet narrowly missed its mark, impacting right behind the henchman, spraying cement and mortar chunks everywhere. However, his opponent wasted no time in returning fire.

Sygil had little cover and so was forced to lean into the small gap in the wall to avoid being cut up like Swiss-cheese.

The sounds of mortar chunks in the wall exploding, coupled with the screams of the two injured henchmen reverberated in the room, while the third henchmen let loose a long war-cry.

Sygil didn't feel like wasting any more time than absolutely necessary in dealing with the gunman, so after quickly pinpointing his position, he twitched his left hand inwards, summoning a Shadow-Spike from directly behind the henchman.

The shadow acted like a blade, instantly impaling him through the chest, killing him instantly. With the suppressive fire gone for a brief second, he peeked around the corner from a crouched position, reducing his size, before quickly firing a short burst from the final magazine he just loaded in his rifle.

The shots finished off the two wounded henchmen, allowing him to step from cover and clear the floor.

Several concrete pillars lay before him, offering limited cover, but provided him some idea of how clear the floor was. Running forward, he weaved in and out of cover, quickly pre-aiming at potential hiding spots were more henchmen could be lying in ambush or might pop out from.

After successfully clearing the floor in less than a minute, he came to the next set of stairs. Above, he could several running footsteps and the shouts of henchmen nearing the stairwell.

He doubted he had sufficient ammo remaining in his final magazine to deal with them all, so quickly concentrating, he summoned the shadows on the floor above to strike out everywhere, hopefully skewering everyone on the floor.

He was rewarded with multiple screams of pain and the sounds of flesh, bone and material being ripped through and shredded.

As he quickly climbed the stairs two at a time, he was greeted by the gory sight of several henchmen being impaled by a ridiculous amount of sharpened shadows.

The shadows protruded from every natural shadow, at an assortment of angles; from the ceiling and the floor, to the walls and even the shadows cast by the henchmen. Their long needle-like shapes were just visible, defying the lights present on the floor, not conforming to any natural physics. Several agonised moans and groans could be heard from the henchmen still alive, barely clinging to life. However, many others were already dead, with the shadows having penetrated various parts of their bodies.

With a flick of his wrist, the spiked shadows dispersed, allowing the bodies, both living and dead, to collapse to the floor in a graceless heap. He paid them all no heed as he marched by to the final set of stairs, confident that any survivors would bleed out by the time he was done with Vessie.

One dying fool attempted to draw a handgun and shoot the approaching killer, but Sygil saw it coming miles away. As he marched by, he barely slowed down to aim the AK at the man's head and let loose a single shot, snapping the head forcefully to the ground and likely breaking his nose as brain matter and blood sprayed on the already bloodied floor.

As he approached the final stairs, he took them two at a time. He could hear Vessie's muffled voice on the next floor. And judging by the range of expletives she was directing at her own men, she seemed angry and desperate. A deadly combination for such a volatile individual.

As he came to the top of the stairs, he was met with a long hallway, with many rooms on each side, all the doors closed. Several dim amber lights helped illuminate the corridor, but dark shadows still permeated in areas where the light was too weak to reach.

" _I said, get that fucking thing turned on already dammit! Ehe, that'll teach this crazy cocksucker to fuck with me! No-one messes with me and gets to live scott-fucken'-free!"_

Vessie's muffled voice resonated several doors down, likely behind the very end door directly facing him at the very end of the hallway.

A door on his immediate left suddenly smashed open, but before anyone could exit or attack, he casually raised his gun perfectly horizontal and let loose a small automatic burst into the room, not even batting an eyelid.

A body could be heard dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap, and after giving the room a cursory glance, he deemed it clear and proceeded to the final door where Vessie lied.

" _How do we know this thing will even work?! He's already killed most of our men and – " "- ARE YOU DOUBTING ME! SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS WILL KILL HIM, I **KNOW** IT WILL!"_

Intrigued, Sygil pressed an ear against the door to hear what was being discussed; it sounded important after all.

He could hear the sound of something loose like chains clinking, followed by the all-to-familiar sound of a large bolt being racked. A sound he never forgot from his days in the military.

As his eyes widened, he instinctively hit the deck, and just in time as the surrounding walls and door became shredded apart by a fully automatic machine-gun, and judging by the sound, it was a big calibre too!

Wood splinters, pulverised concrete and mortar exploded all around as lead went flying over his head, covering him in dust and debris.

The barrage continued for several seconds, until Vessie's angry screaming caused it to cease.

An electronic whirring sound could be heard as the gun stopped firing. Risking taking a look over the small shredded remains of the door at floor-level, he was met with an even bigger surprise.

_You crazy bitch!_

Vessie and three of her henchmen stood behind a 7-foot tall bipedal robot. It, however, looked nothing like a human, and was likely even less friendly, judging by the two dual-mounted .50calibre barrels placed where the lower arms should have been.

It was a bulky machine, with heavy armour encasing and protecting it. However, the armour was also ergonomic enough to allow for significant manoeuvrability. The head was non-existent, instead replaced with a sharp dome where the neck would have been. A bright-red visor could be seen where its visual sensors likely were, which scanned back and forth.

The legs where heavily armoured also, and for feet, several sharp metal claws dug into the concrete floor, firmly rooting it to the ground to prevent it from tipping over or being knocked over. Not that any normal human would be able to; the thing looked as if it weighed over a tonne.

Two ammo belts connected from each arm-barrel and draped down from a large ammo-case mounted on its back. And the belts looked plenty full, even though over a hundred shell casings littered the floor.

"THERE HE IS! SHOOT HIM GOD DAMMIT!" Vessie's sudden order broke him out of his stupor as the robot aimed its barrels directly at him, while the henchmen behind did exactly the same.

He could tell instantly the same tactics wouldn't work against this thing, and his gun, which was only half-full with ammo, wouldn't cut it against this war-machine.

As the machine opened fire on him, he threw the rifle to the side and used his shadow manipulation to teleport the fuck out of there. It was a sloppy teleportation as his body vanished into the shadows and shot into the room immediately behind him on his left. As his body rematerialized from the shadows, he stumbled through several chairs in his way, running sloppily at full speed to avoid being mulched by the heavy-guns.

Even though the guns likely wouldn't kill him, it could turn his body, and more importantly his suit, into absolute mulch. Something he avidly wanted to avoid.

The machine seemed to have locked onto him, however, as a hail of bullets ripped through the wall, following him as he ran.

 _Must have a motion or heat sensor, or something?_ It was the only logical way it could be tracking him.

The bullets stopped following him once he ran past a heavy concrete wall, likely too thick for even the .50 calibre rounds to penetrate. That didn't stop the machine from trying to shoot through them of course.

He stopped his sprint now that he felt temporarily safe, trapped in a corner between a cement wall and a barred window.

* * *

"GrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRR! God DAMMIT!" Vessie screeched in absolute fury that Sygil had narrowly escaped the war-machine's guns. Upturned tables, chairs, spilt food, drugs and drinks surrounded her, and in front of her, half the hallway and right wall were absolutely shredded by the robot's persistent gunfire.

The machine stopped its automatic barrage, and her remaining gang-members just stood there with stunned expressions on their faces.

Absolute rage adorned her face, and in an instant she lashed out at the nearest henchman.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE, KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER! YOU!" She swivelled back to the robot, which turned slightly to face her.

"Follow him," she gestured into the room where Sygil was," and finish him off!"

The robot let loose an incomprehensible warbled sound, a cross between radio-chatter and static, before storming off and literally walking through the cement wall.

The return of the machine's automatic gunfire was music to her ears.

A sinister smile started to slowly form on her face.

* * *

"Oh for the love of…" muttered an exasperated Sygil as he desperately tried to weave around the war-machine which literally walked through the cement wall, shooting at him like there was no tomorrow.

He relied heavily on his immortal strength enhancements to give him the speed advantage, which was working well at avoiding the pounding guns, until he underestimated the melee capabilities of the war-machine.

The robot swung its left arm out, nailing him hard in the side as he ran by too close. The force of the impact sent him flying into the wall.

As he collapsed onto the ground, he could hear the hydraulics of the machine turn to aim its gun at him, before it continued its relentless barrage.

Once again, his shadow teleportation came into use again, allowing him to immediately meld out of its sights. This time, however, he followed the shadows straight into the room where Vessie was.

* * *

Vessie knew that Sygil was a highly skilled killer, but what she didn't know nor expect to witness was him literally materialise out the shadows on her flank, wielding two engraved Desert Eagles pointed in her general direction.

She immediately vaulted over one of the upturned tables near her, hoping to avoid being shot. A plan which worked for the most part. What she didn't expect was the penetrating capabilities of the heavy handguns. Most of the bullets soared over her head, but one penetrated the table as she was ducking down, impacting right into her lower leg.

"Gaargh!" She let loose an agonised cry of pain as she felt her muscles, flesh and bone get blown apart.

She twisted her head to see her henchmen get completely eviscerated by Sygil, blood and flesh exploding all over the walls, with only a few fleeting return shots being exchanged.

Panic quickly overcame her as she could hear Sygil approach her, but it turned into relief as she heard her war-machine return, its heavy footsteps reverberating throughout the building. And judging by the pace, it was coming quickly.

* * *

Before he could get to Vessie, the damned robot was upon him, its guns roaring to life, forcing him to once again run at full speed. However, this time it seemed to have accounted for his speed as it spun even faster, and only by the saving gracing of a coincidental heavy support pillar did he avoid getting hit. Using the brief cover, he aimed his duel Desert Eagles at the persistent machine, opening fire on it as he ran.

Since his handguns were enchanted with Unholy elementals, it made them much more powerful and devastating. So imagine his surprise when the rounds didn't go straight through the armour of the machine. Regardless, they did an impressive job of heavily denting and cracking the heavy panels, a testament to just how powerful the rounds were.

 _How much ammo is this fucking thing packing?!_ As if on cue, he saw the ammo belts all start to drop and hang from the barrels, indicating only so many bullets left. He only just needed to wait it out.

It didn't take but a few more seconds before all of the robots ammo was depleted. However, just when he thought the thing was now more manageable, it suddenly charged him with impressive speed, its metal claws ripping up chunks of concrete.

He barely managed to dodge the machine's mad rampage, only to find himself being shot at by Vessie herself, who was unloading both of her handguns into Sygil in a mad attempt to kill him. He didn't want to kill her so easily since he wanted to drain her soul from her body. So, as tempting as it was to shoot back and kill her, he restrained himself, instead opting to duck behind another upturned table. His peace was short-lived however as the same robot came charging back at him, ignoring the bullets he kept shooting into it.

It lifted both of its arms as high as it mechanically could before bringing them crashing down right into where he was.

Cursing, he rolled out of the way, directly into Vessie line of fire. Fortunately, she was busy reloading, so he could focus on the robot.

"Tsk. Stupid bloody thing." Dematerialising one of his handguns, he flicked his wrist, summoning two of his shadow hounds into play.

Without having to be told, they both charged at the war-machine, teeth bared as they hit the machine with full force. Both of the shadow hounds quickly melded into the cracks in its armour, vanishing into its internal components.

He paid them no heed as he was confident in their abilities to destroy the machine while he dealt with Vessie.

Remnants of smoky black shadow flickered throughout the robot as it desperately attempted to compute what was assaulting it. Wires, sparks and electricity could be heard erupting from the internal components of the machine, until finally a loud static screech was emitted from the dying machine. In a vain attempt to kill its strange assailants, it smashed both of its barrelled arms into its chest, only succeeding in tearing off one of the gun panels.

In a final death throe, its red visor flickered before exploding outwards, spreading glass and optic cables and wires everywhere as it lost power, tilting over and collapsing to the ground.

The shadow hounds, like hyenas, slinked out from the robots internal components and were summoned back into Sygil's extended open hand.

Vessie couldn't believe her eyes as to what she had just witnessed.

"What the fuck! You're a fucking freak, a god damned monster!" She tried to fire her guns, but they were out of ammo. All that was left were her knives. She was quick to pull them in her mad panic, desperately ignoring the pain in her mangled leg, likely due to the adrenaline running through her veins, and maybe the cocaine she had been snorting earlier.

Sygil twirled his remaining Desert Eagle as he strode over to her slowly and menacingly, a predatory smirk adorned on his face.

Enraged, Vessie tried to charge forth, swinging her knives wildly at Sygil. However, before she could close the distance, he fired a single shot into her right hand, blowing both her hand in half and the large knife apart at the handle. The blade went spinning off due to the carried force of the impact.

Vessie let loose a screech of pain as she stumbled back, dropping her other knife as she clutched what was left of her hand. Of course, however, her injured leg could not support her weight and she collapsed onto her knees.

Before she could fall any further, Sygil suddenly appeared right before her, his gloved left hand clamping tightly around her throat, lifting her into the air.

As she struggled to breathe, Sygil's smile only widened.

"Hey Vessie," he started mockingly, the massive handgun vanishing in his free hand. "About that deal I was mentioning earlier." He slowly tightened his grip around her neck as he lifted her higher, her feet now barely touching the ground as she struggled more intensely.

"I was thinking along the lines of a trade. However, considering the current state of things here," he gestured to the destroyed the room and dead bodies. "I don't think you have anything worthwhile to trade here. So instead, I have an alternative.

"I'll grant you a quick death, and in exchange, I'll take your soul as my own."

Vessie began to gurgle something. Sygil, in response slightly loosened his grip. "What was that, honey?"

"Fu…ck… you…" she struggled to spit vehemently.

Sygil merely chuckled in response. "Yes, well, it's nothing personal. Just business as usual. I'm sure you will understand."

"Frea…k…"

Vessie watched with growing horror as Sygil's free hand began to transform into flame-like shadows, still baring the semblance of a human hand, just jet-black and smoky.

He smirked in amusement. "I guess, in sense, this is karma for everything you have done in your life."

Before Vessie could react, he plunged his free hand deep into her chest. Even though her airway was being constricted, it didn't stop her from letting loose an agonised scream as she felt something being ripped apart from her.

As Sygil slowly pulled his hand out of her, she began to violently cough up blood and bile. With a final tug, he ripped his hand out of her, ceasing her screaming and death throes as her literal soul was ripped from her body. Dropping the fresh corpse of Vessie, he admired in his hand the blue wispy tendrils of her soul which was desperately trying to writhe away, all to no avail.

As he held her soul, he could feel its energy being drained and consumed into him, its wispy tendrils being sucked into the inky flame-like shadows that danced up and down his arm and hand. Before long, it was gone, and he was temporarily rejuvenated with her soul.

What made her soul more filling was the fact she was directly responsible for the deaths of many others, and as such, remnants of their souls were embedded in hers. And since he had consumed her soul, he also got theirs, which gave him even more energy.

He felt a sudden pang in his injured shoulder and instinctively clutched it.

_Hopefully with this feast, it should help stabilise my injury until I am ready to heal it._

Looking at the mess around him, he realised he needed to leave before any more people or police arrived. After retrieving his battered AK-103, he walked out of the building using the same path he entered via, feeling satisfied in sating his hunger.

He had achieved in what he set out to accomplish, and with enough energy to function for a good couple of months at tops, he was ready to continue his research. He needed to access a library and look up any religious texts on holy and unholy contents, as well as any mythology he could acquire.

_I have spent years upon years honing combat techniques, familiarising myself with the ins and outs of both the modern and supernatural world, and I get blindsided by a Holy infection. I feel like such an idiot for not preparing for this._

This was the price he paid for not preparing for all possible outcomes. It just meant he now had to spend more time researching it and curing it. Most demons under contract would simply reincarnate and avoid dealing with the grief of the infection, but he wanted to retain as much of his soul as possible and not become some mindless beast due to reincarnation. He had already reincarnated in the past and noticed changes in his overall emotions. And it scared him of what he could become if he reincarnated too many times. Which was why he had to find a way, so that way when the day came, _she_ would be able to recognise him. And so, he would try to stay alive so he could succeed.

Before he could access a library, however, he would need to participate in the raid in Yggdrasil tomorrow. Hopefully he would get some useful information out of the game. If not, then he would have to turn to other means. The one thing that was useful about the game, however, was its apparent ability to put his Holy injury in limbo, essentially granting him near unlimited time to find an answer. At least in theory.

And so, with a goal once again in mind, he proceeded to head back to the apartment, using the shadows to his advantage as he clutched his AK-103, ready to triumph over all the obstacles before him. He _would_ see her again, if it was the last thing he ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I originally thought I would have to edit a lot with this chapter, but after reading it, I was actually satisfied with how it originally turned out. Therefore, for the most part, it is actually untouched compared to the original version, save for a couple tweaks to the prose, editing and omitting certain sentences and the odd word change.  
> I wish I could say the for next couple of chapters onwards :(  
> Next chapter onwards until the arrival of the New World will be undergoing more noticeable tweaking. As such, the next chapter will be 7 (Seven) days from now instead of the usual 4. Sorry, but there's a little more work to fix. However, even though this is a rewrite, my focus is less actually changing the whole story to how it originally was and moreso fixing glaring issues, things that seemed rather stupid in terms of scenes, and adjusting the prose and dialogue to be more suitable, as well as expanding on certain aspects. Besides, I'd rather be devoting my time to solely writing NEW content instead of divying it up with re-writing certain parts. Still, I'm giving the deadlines not just as an expectation for you as a reader in when to expect a chapter, but so I don't end up procrastinating in my everloving boredom of this rewrite. Note to self. Write future new chapters as GOOD QUALITY from the get go so we ALL don't have to suffer this shitshow of a rewrite. I'm sure you're just as bored of this as I am and are itching for new content to carry on where we left of on the original. So, I'll give total deadline.  
>  I intend for this rewrite to be done and at least one NEW chapter to be posted either before or ON Christmas day at the absolute latest. And by jolly, we are going to power through to that deadline, because I have got all the fun content ahead of the rewrite.  
> Anywho, I hope you're all taking care and staying safe. I'll see you next Saturday at the latest, and this time with ACTUAL rewritten content, instead of basic grammar edits lol.   
> Peace!


	5. Darkness, the Bringer of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content.  
> This chapter has a lot of new content. For a full summary see my end notes. Enjoy :)

**Darkness, the Bringer of Death**

Nazarick was bustling with activity, yet somehow it just felt… empty. It was a more frequent feeling and atmosphere the majestic base had adopted recently as more of the Supreme Beings began to show up less and less. Currently, none of the Supreme Beings resided in the Tomb. They had all 'logged off' has he had heard some of them say. It must have been their way of leaving the world they resided in. Apparently, many of the Supreme Beings had logged off, only to return within a short while. However, many never showed up again. While curious, and often saddened like many of Nazarick's residents, he dared not question why. It was not his place to question what his Creators did or why! His job was to make sure Nazarick was well prepared for when the Supreme Beings returned, as was all of their duties! The needs and desires of the Supreme Beings came first and foremost, no matter what anyone else thought or cared. The will of the Supreme Beings was absolute.

With none of the Supreme Beings present currently, the atmosphere felt less tense and strict. As if he and many others had an invisible force lifted from them. He, like all of the others, could never converse properly with the Supreme Beings, only speaking limited and automated lines. As if some force prevented them from speaking freely, not that he nor anyone else would dare insolently speak freely without permission from the Supreme Beings. He lived to serve, and as such he was truly happy. But still, he wished the Supreme Beings could remain in Nazarick and let him and the other members of Nazarick work on their behalf. They just baffled him so much, the Supreme Beings did. What wondrous and intricate thoughts did they think on a day to day basis; where did they go to; how were they able to achieve the pinnacle of strength and intellect. And so, the 7th Floor Guardian Demiurge was left to mull over such thoughts, until Albedo suddenly arrived on the 7th Floor, a rare treat truly, as she was mostly designated to the 9th and 10th Floors.

"Overseer," bowed Demiurge as he spoke freely with his tongue, something they could all only do if the Supreme Beings were never around. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?"

The Guardian Overseer nodded her head in acknowledgment. "Demiurge, I came to check on all of the Floors and receive a progress report on all defences and level optimisations."

This intrigued the demon, and so he stood tall and straight. "Oh? And may I be so bold as to inquire what may be the cause for concern?" Analytical as always, he had correctly assumed something was troubling the Overseer.

Albedo frowned slightly as she responded. "The remaining Supreme Beings have enlisted the assistance of a player, one not affiliated with Nazarick. Not much is known about this individual, with our lords somewhat sceptical. While it may have caught their attention, and I will fully support whatever they wish they decide upon, I feel it is best to err on the side of caution as it apparently utilises some other form of abilities and summons not known."

Now this truly piqued Demiurges interest. Not only was some stranger cooperating with their glorious leaders, but they had access to summons their masters were unfamiliar with? _No, perhaps the context is what was in question_ , his analytical mind whirred.

"I see. And you have reason to believe that this player has yet to reveal any ulterior motives?"

"Yes, Demiurge. As such, until our Lords have deemed otherwise, I want you to tighten security around Nazarick and ensure no-one can enter our sacred territory."

"Of course, Guardian Overseer. I will see to it at once."

Albedo smiled satisfactorily, but then asked, "Has anything strange occurred on the 7th Floor by chance?"

Demiurge was quick to assure Albedo, "Fortunately, no. The 7th Floor is relatively deep and requires access from the 6th Floor. The 7th is relatively safe and un-tampered, at least concerning our defences. Any intruder likely would have been detected or killed."

Albedo nodded in satisfaction. "Then I trust you to fulfil your duties to the fullest. For the glory of Nazarick and the Supreme Beings!"

"For the glory of Nazarick and the Supreme Beings!"

* * *

The time had come. Ainz Ooal Gown would strike back, vengefully reclaiming what was rightfully its own. The guild would have its revenge, and there was not a damned thing anyone or anything could do to stop them. Momonga was certain of this as he logged on to the game, his Undead Overlord avatar being equipped with the highest tier rings and equipment.

He was currently in the guild's armoury, not to be confused with its sacred treasury. While the treasury housed the world items, he was not so foolish as to use them on a couple mere players. It would be a waste, and while it would showcase strength, it would not be sufficient reminder to show the individual prowess of their own individual skills. Besides, by keeping them in reserve, the threat of a World Item being unleashed would be more than sufficient to keep in check any foolish rabble stupid enough to cross with Ains Ooal Gown. No, instead, the armoury housed a range of Legendary Class and above weaponry, armour, potions and other miscellaneous items. Deadly in anyone's hands, and lethal in a skilled players. Those that would dare to oppose him, steal his mine, and undermine his Guild's hard work would suffer the consequences!

Accompanying him in the room was Ulbert, Touch Me and Peroroncino. Unfortunately, Hero-Hero wasn't able to log on until later, near the end of the assault, so he would hold the Guild Base when he did arrive, adding to its already immense fortifications.

Everyone in the room was equipping themselves with the most powerful weaponry they had, short of using World Items. Only Touch-Me would be equipping a World Item so that they had a means to repel the potential use of one. Of course, that was only speculation, however, as the enemy guild lacked one to their knowledge. _Still never hurts to be prepared._

Once Ulbert had finished fully equipping several items, he called out to Momonga. "You think this is a little overkill?"

Momonga couldn’t help but gape in real-life. “You? Complaining about overkill? Oh Ulbert,” chuckled the Overlord bemused. “That’s a good one.”

“What? I’m just saying, between you, me, Touch-Me and the others, we’ll trounce these punks.”

“Oh definitely,” agreed Momonga. “But, I thought you were supportive of setting a big, bad, fiery example of our might?”

“It’s not that,” sighed Ulbert. “It’s just this Sygil guy. We’ve already led him into our base. He could easily turn on us, and steal something from us. That’s sorta what happened with Arche, remember.”

“Arche was different. You know that. He broke in to the base without us knowing. Hell, we didn’t even know that dude existed up until then. If it wasn’t for the World Item he was equipped with, he wouldn’t have gotten away with it. Sygil doesn’t seem to have one.”

“That we know of….” Ulbert crossed his arms sceptically.

Momonga could hear himself sighing audibly. “Why are you raising these reservations now, instead of earlier when we had the meeting?”

“I’m just saying we should be careful! This guy trampled level forties at level one. We practically let him into our home, and now we have him partnered up with a deal where he can essentially waltz into our base whenever!”

“We have limitations in place. He would have to be accompanied by one of us. Besides, that’s even if we uphold our end of the bargain. If he’s cheating or otherwise bad news, then we drop him. Simple as.”

“Nothing’s ever simple as,” grumbled Ulbert.

Momonga merely shook his head, before making to leave Ulbert and walk elsewhere. That is, until Ulbert went to intercept and cut him off.

“Look. All I’m saying is we should be careful around this guy, and not commit all of us to this assault. We should have somebody stay behind to watch the place while we’re gone.”

“And who’s going to stay behind Ulbert? Hm? Everyone here’s joined up for the raid, and we don’t have anyone else available to remain behind. Besides, who’d want to after all that’s happened?”

Ulbert seemed to genuflect for a brief moment, and Momonga dared to hope the conversation would be over, bt alas he was proven wrong.

“Touch-Me could stay behind.”

Momonga nearly balked. “Ulbert! Are you sure this is really about Sygil and not your feud with Touch-Me? Because that is what it sounds more like to me.”

“It’s not! But Touch-Me would be able to hold the place down by himself easily in case Seraph or some other guild launches an attack while we are gone.”

“No Ulbert! For fuck’s sake, we have NPC’s to watch the guild for a reason. Demiurge, Cocytus, Albedo, hell even the Pleiades can hold their own.”

“Yes, but they’re – “ “- No Ulbert. My decision as Guildmaster is final. We are all participating on this raid. Unless you want to leave, which by all means be my guest!”

And with that, Momonga stormed around Ulbert, his robes flaring up behind him, an accurate depiction of his mood.

“Wait, Momonga, that’s not what I…. Urgh! For fuck’s sake!”

With a flick of his hand, Ulbert used the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to open up a portal and teleport away, leaving Momonga and the remaining guild-members alone in the armoury.

Despite being witness to the brief argument, no-one wanted to speak up. Instead, everyone silently finished preparing themselves for the upcoming raid. Except Momonga, who just stood facing one of the chests before him disinterestedly, too consumed by Sygil and Ulbert.

Sygil was indeed an unknown factor, but he wanted to trust Touch-Me and Ulbert’s judgement. Except, he sometimes felt he couldn’t. Touch-Me felt more distant, and Ulbert seemed more prone to conflict.

It was all just one ugly mess. And yet, as Guild-leader, it was assumed he would be capable of resolving all of his friends problems, acting as the necessary intermediary. Except he knew he wasn’t. He knew, and so did a lot of the guild-members. So, he had to make is own decisions. Not just for himself, but as a guild-leader. He wanted to give Sygil a chance, but he also had to be realistic.

As if sensing his thoughts, Peroroncino put a hand on his shoulder. "It will be fine. If anything is sus about him, we will just put him under and move on. After all, this is meant to be a showcase of our strength and show that we are _not_ to be fucked with. Heh. I think, actually, by killing our enlisted help at the end we might be able to send an even greater message out."

Momonga snorted sarcastically in amusement. "And prevent any more potential outside help if we ever require it?"

"Are you saying we aren't good enough Momo?" Chuckled Peroroncino lightly, crossing his arms in mock hurt.

Momonga laughed lightly at the affectionate nick-name. "Not at all Peroroncino. And you do make a good point. I've sent the request to the developers, but it will probably take a couple of days before a response is granted. Until then, we'll just have to deal with it as it comes."

"Indeed," nodded Peroroncino.

The stood in silence for a moment, finishing their preparations, until Momonga finally spoke.

"I suppose it is time for use to begin making a move now. I'll teleport to our enlisted Mercenary and ensure he is organised. Feel free to join in when you are done," and with a flourish of his hand, he teleported away with the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Peroroncino stood there, looking at where his friend just stood a second ago, before allowing a small smile to creep on his real face. Momonga loved theatrics.

"We better join him. Make sure Ulbert joins us on time. If at all." Peroroncino looked at Touch-Me in amusement.

"How about you do so yourself? You two seem like real good friends."

Touch-Me's only response was to snort before he too teleported away to join Momonga and Sygil.

* * *

"And Peroroncino is left alone again. Ahhh, god I wish I had a real girl to love me right now and make me feel somewhat important," chuckled Peroroncino mirthlessly. "Ah well…." And with that, he too teleported away.

When Peroroncino arrived, he was greeted by the sight of Momonga chatting with Sygil about something, while Touch-Me loomed nearby.

Momonga turned to face Peroroncino, waving his fellow Heteromorph over.

"Glad to see you arrived," started Sygil, surprisingly.

If he was surprised by the cordiality Sygil expressed, Peroroncino didn't express it at all. "Not as much as I am that you did," retorted Peroroncino jokingly.

Before any further discussion could take place, Touch-Me cleared his voice. "Yes, well, I'd like for us to get a move on now instead of later. We are burning daylight after all."

While Sygil personally doubted that, he did agree with the sentiment. He personally wanted to get this job over as soon as possible so he could begin scrounging up resources in the safest, albeit one of the more stranger, ways possible. Still, he had to ask.

“Where’s Ulbert? We seem short a man?”

“No idea. He’ll probably join us shortly. I wouldn’t read too into it,” dismissed Momonga.

Sygil could only stare in apprehension at his 'contractors'. _What the hell have I gotten into?_

"Anyway," coughed Momonga. "Perhaps we should make a move now? I'll open a portal near our destination, however since the mine has been taken, we will have to walk a good half league to our destination due to possible wards."

"Ohhhh fuuuck! Really Momonga," whined Peroroncino. "Tactically, it makes sound sense anyways," started Touch-Me. "We can have the element of surprise on our side until we are ready to engage." "For once I agree with you," concurred Ulbert in approval, his voice surprising everyone, who turned to face him.

“Oh, you decided to come after all?” Ulbert merely shot Touch-Me what Sygil assumed was a filthy look underneath the avatar.

“Of course I am. I’m not going to leave my friends hanging.”

Before any tension could build, Peroroncino interjected. “Well, I’m glad we’re all here. Just like the good old days, eh?”

“Yeah, let’s not let any silly arguments spoil the fun,” added Ulbert.

That seemed to relax Momonga. “Yeas, indeed.”

“Yeah,” continued Peroroncino. “Now, let’s go kick some ass!”

"Yes, well, first we need to actually get there. Now Sygil, you remember what you need to do?"

Sygil nodded in affirmation at Momonga's question. Even if it annoyed him.

"Excellent. Then if you would be so kind to all follow me," elaborated Momonga majestically. A portal akin to the one Touch-Me used suddenly appeared, and without further ado, Momonga vanished into it, followed shortly by Ulbert. Touch-Me beckoned for Sygil to enter, and ultimately did so.

* * *

On the other side, as he arrived, he was greeted by the edge of a twisted forest and the beginnings of a rocky, rust-coloured mountain wall. Upon closer inspection, a narrow winding path lead to the summit, where he deduced the entrance to the mine might lay. Regardless, it was a fair distance away, and the heavy canopy of the forest edge obstructed some of his view.

The forest itself was rather eerie, with the trees all sickly looking and twisted, with gnarled roots protruding from the earth like ruptured blisters. A worn stone path led deeper into the forest which became more and more dark and foreboding as he gazed deeper into it.

"Now that we are here, if you would be so kind as to take the lead Sygil?" He merely nodded his head at Momonga's request and began silently walking towards the mountain path, with the guild members trailing behind.

As they were walking, Momonga used message to talk with his companions.

_Momonga: Once Sygil clears the path ahead, I want to perform a localised scrying spell to find our enemies inside the mine. While I do that Ulbert, I want you to place our own traps at the mine entrance, replacing theirs if they have any._

_Ulbert: Sounds good to me._

_Touch-Me: Then once you are done, I will head down to the Treasury and lure any players into the smelting rooms._

_Momonga: Yes. However, let our resident mercenary pave the way first, or at least bait any opponents out. After all, I want to see for myself if he is of any use._

_Touch-Me: Fair enough._

Meanwhile with Sygil, he was on full alert. He was effectively in hostile territory and, even though it was just a game, he had to put his best effort in to avoid finding about real respawns the hard way, as well as to sufficiently impress and convince his potential allies into providing him information.

As he and the others approached the mountains, his military training from years prior began to kick in. Subconsciously, his hand flexed to grip an imaginary spiked chain, ready to materialise at a moment's notice. The chain would give him the ranged capacity to deal with potential ambushers. Because of the openness of the terrain, it was highly likely any defenders would engage at range. The spiked chain gave him the extended reach to engage, as well as lasso out for quick escape. He wasn't fully certain teleportation would work, though theoretically it should. Regardless, he was playing it safe. Well, as safe as he could given his circumstances.

Upon reaching the base of the footpath of the associated mountain, Momonga finally spoke up.

"I'm going to prepare a scrying spell to detect any players and other threats inside the base now that we are close enough. Cover me while I begin. That includes you as well Sygil."

It was a demand more than a simple ask, not that he was going to complain. While the guild-members apparently knew the layout of the mine, they lacked any current intel associated with specific numbers and locations of their foes.

Sygil found a nearby outcrop which gave him cover and range to use his spiked chain, whereas Ulbert and Touch-Me started casting defensive spells while equipping weapons. Peroroncino equipped some enchanted bow, from what Sygil could observe.

It took 30 seconds for the spell to be prepared, though perhaps Momonga was deliberately taking his time. Maybe to draw anyone out? Regardless, once the spell was cast, no-one appeared. Momonga seemed lost in thought, until he confidently proclaimed.

"There is no-one outside that I can detect, but keep on the lookout since some might be using higher tier items and spells to hide. There seems to be some enemies in the main entrance, and the numbers appear to increase with each descending level."

While Momonga said it to inform everyone, it was mostly aimed at Sygil who was going to be the point-man.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Proudly proclaimed Peroroncino.

Momonga nodded. "Umu. You take the air above and provide eyes for us. Sygil, you will enter the guild base. Ulbert will provide some support to deal with any heavy hitting players. You worry about thinning their numbers, traps and overall enemies. Once you draw their attention, Touch-Me and I will teleport directly into the lava lake below and work our way up to the Treasury and lure any players into the smelting rooms."

No further words were exchanged as everyone began moving to their objectives, clear determination and understanding of what was required. Within five minutes, everyone was in position, with Ulbert and Sygil at the mountain summit. Peroroncino was flying above, cloaked invisible by either an item or spell that Sygil was unaware of.

Sygil could see what looked like two large armoured skeletons, each equipped with a flamberge and large shield.

"Death Knights," stated Ulber bluntly. "Pretty low-Tier, around 30. So they should be easy for you to handle. Once you kill them and make some noise, we should be able to put the whole place on alert and draw other players and mobs out." Ulbert likely was smirking deviously. With a somewhat arrogant and extravagant sweeping gesture, he indicated towards the mine entrance and the two Death Knights. "All yours."

Sygil rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Peeking over the boulders they were taking cover behind, he observed his surroundings. The mine entrance was a cave with an intricate steel or other metallic ore supporting frame. The two Death Knights were situated just at the border of the entrance. There were no other defenders he could observe, so it was likely just the two, but based on past experience, he would not discount any hidden ambushers lying in wait.

Judging by their size, they appeared to possess a large gait, so manoeuvrability was probably not the greatest, instead relying on brute strength to hold and pin down an opponent. Being two of them, they were likely able to counter and cover each other better, so separately engaging them individually was ideal. The attack would have to be quick and concise, striking the weaker unguarded portions of their bodies. From where he was situated, however, he wouldn't be able to utilise surprise. A large open expanse before him and the two towering monstrosities would mean he would need to essentially rush them and cut them down. Ideally, Peroroncino should have engaged with his bow to strike them down from afar. Alas, Ains Ooal Gown wanted to evaluate his abilities, so he needed to do this on his own.

"You're more than welcome to engage any day now," snarked Ulbert, breaking his train of thought.

"I'm thinking," retorted Sygil.

He needed something loud and deadly, enough to draw the base's attention on to him so everyone else could do their job. After a couple more seconds to ponder over a course of action, Sygil sprung to his feet and began his charge. The battle for the Mines of Seraph had begun.

* * *

The response was instantaneous; the Death Knights instantly locked on to him and brought their shields up to defend themselves and drew their flamberges back. However, it was too late.

In an instant, he materialised a sabre in his left hand. As he gained ground and was almost upon them, he threw his Spiked Chain forward, the barbed blade instantly embedding itself in the head of the Death Knight who, remarkably, didn't budge at all.

With a quick flick, he tugged the chain towards himself, sending the Death Knight flying towards him. As it flew closer, he somersaulted in the air, twisting his body and by extension, his sabre, to gather as much momentum and therefore force needed to swing the damaging blow.

By the time the Knight's body arrived at him, he had done a complete 360 degree twist, and his sabre bore the fruits of his momentum. The blade cut neatly through the Death Knight's neck, and only through years of honed reflexes and enhanced supernatural skill did he successfully decapitate the Death Knight.

The Death Knight's relieved body went flying with the continued moment. As he landed on his feet, the second Death Knight roared ferociously, likely alerting the entire mine. It mattered not.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he braced his legs to carry him forward in a roll to avoid the flamberge that was vertically sweeping down on his location.

With a resonating BOOM, the flamberge crashed into the ground where he was nought but a microsecond ago. Before the dust could settle, he finished his roll and was directly in front of the Death Knight. In a flash, his sabre found its mark in the exposed ribcage of the towering behemoth, penetrating upwards through its digitally rotting flesh and impaling itself through the head of undead monster.

The bladed remained in the beast's skull for a brief second before he gracefully retracted the blade and weaved out to the side of the collapsing Undead.

As he reeled in his spiked chain, he flicked the head off of the spike and surveyed his handiwork.

He barely got to enjoy it however, as a screeching wail from a rushing undead within the dark mine entrance came rushing forth.

It was a skeleton by the looks of it, covered in tattered leather and armour. It wielded a bastard sword and was bearing for him. By reflex, he swung his sabre up to block the incoming blow, and a loud CLANG could be heard to reverberate within the mine entrance. That was when the trouble came.

The skeleton was followed by a literal small army of its other cousins, all armed similarly with a range of swords, pikes and battleaxes. There were no visible archers in the back ranks, but it was more than possible.

The skeleton retracted its blade to swing again, and Sygil seized his opportunity to end its pitiful virtual existence.

The rest of its brethren were getting closer and so Sygil swung his spiked chain, bisecting seven of the skeletons before it embedded in the wall. He realised the dilemma he faced; the spiked chain was too unwieldy and long in a cramped mine entrance, so he dissolved his connection with it, materialising a second sabre in his right hand to replace it.

The horde of undead was upon him. He swung his left sabre to parry an incoming skeletons sword strike before sidestepping a pike thrust by another, bring his right sabre in an upwards thrust to neatly decapitate the animated sack of bones.

Twisting his left sabre he relieved the parrying skeleton of its hands before impaling its skull with his right sabre. Slashing horizontally, he decapitated another skeleton before spinning to bisect another skeleton, its leather armour offering no protection against his unholy blades.

His movements were hard to observe, nought but a blur to the human eye, but beneath all of that madness there was a method.

Block, parry, deflect, sidestep, thrust, sidestep, duck, spin and relieve more of the undead of their weapons before finishing them.

Bones went flying, shields fell to the ground, blades twirling in a cacophony of steel fury. While the undead skeletons were of low quality, they were of higher quantity to make up for their apparent weaknesses. None of the undead could get past his defences, they were fortunate so as to be able to approach so closely.

He pushed forward, wary of the skeletons attempts to flank him. It mattered not, as they too were swiftly dealt with.

As he pushed deeper into the mine, thinning the ranks of the undead, he could see an amber glow ahead from an entrance at the end of the slowly descending tunnel he was in.

An arrow shot zipped past his ear, and in instinct he rolled out of the way, using the incoming remainders of the undead as (un)living shield to block from the arrows that were starting to be let loose upon him.

There were ten skeleton archers ahead of his intended destination, decked out with glowing magical armour and items by the look of things. Another volley of arrows was let loose upon his direction. While they missed their mark as he was too fast and nimble, they embedded in the backs of the melee based skeletons. They seemed to ignore the friendly fire however and kept relentlessly charging him.

There was only a small handful of remaining melee armed skeletons that were futilely attempting to swarm him.

One was carrying a broadsword and brought it down for an overhead strike. He parried by bringing his twin sabres into a closed X, catching the heavier blade in the temporary notch he made. Before the skeleton could perceive what was happening, he delivered a powerful kick into its exposed ribcage, sending it flying backwards in several pieces.

He ducked a horizontal swing by another skeleton and swept his left sabre to its exposed legs, cutting through and collapsing the skeleton onto its rear. It was still functioning, however, and made an attempt to crawl towards him. He responded by burying his blade into its skull. He met resistance from its helmet, but his strength proved greater.

The two remaining melee skeletons attempted to charge together, however he spun with both sabres in hand, slashing the two unfortunate undead soldiers across their chests before finishing with ramming his blades hilt deep into their exposed faces, thus killing them.

**RAAAAWHHHHHHR!**

He snapped his head in the direction of the sound. By the tunnel exit, just behind the skeleton archers, a Death Knight had arrived.

He couldn't help but smirk at such an easy opponent. Its two brethren back at the entrance were child's play, so this one shouldn't be too much of a problem.

He had to dodge out of the way of another volley of arrows. The arrows had barely hit the ground behind him when he started gunning for the Death Knight. The archers were in front of and he brandished his twin sabres as he rapidly closed the distance, intent on ending this fight. As he got closer, the archers had finished pulling an arrow out of their quivers and were starting to notch the arrows when he suddenly threw one of his sabres like a boomerang. The razor sharp blade arced through the air, cutting through several of the archers like paper. They barely hit the ground as he raced past them to the Death Knight. He could feel victory within his grasp.

The Death Knight swung its shield out at him, however he effortlessly weaved past it and brought his sabre up with the intent to impale the ugly motherfucker through its open helmet. His blade rushed forward as he thrust upwards.

CLANG!

With impossible speed unanticipated due to its immense size, the Death Knight brought its flamberge up to parry the incoming blade.

Sygil was surprised at the speed and accuracy of the undead's ability to parry such a threat. With strength befitting such a monstrosity, the Death Knight brought its flamberge down in an attempt to disarm its opponent. He had no choice but to let the beast pull him and his sword down to avoid losing his grip, resulting in his right shoulder and portion of his back being exposed. The Death Knight took complete advantage of this weakness, and smashed its shield with tremendous force into Sygil, sending him flying metres into the air and crashing onto his back.

The Death Knight threw back its head and bellowed out another roar, before slowly stomping forward towards Sygil.

He jumped back on his feet and had to duck another arrow that was shot his way. The Death Knight started to pick up its pace as it started to charge towards him. It mercilessly swung its flamberge and cut down a skeleton archer in its way, before shield bashing another one, sending chunks of bone flying. It cared not for its allies, only for the death of its sole opponent before him.

Sygil stood up and took a defensive stance with his single sabre, prepared to face the onslaught.

Just as the Death Knight was upon him, he summoned two shadow-hounds from behind. The Death Knight barely got another foot down as the hounds pounced from behind, ignoring its armour and tearing straight into the monstrosity.

Surprised by the sudden attack from behind, the Death Knight blindly swung its shield out in an attempt to knock its new opponents off its back while it kept the pace of its charge.

But it was more than enough of a distraction for Sygil to seize.

With the Death Knight's shield arched behind it, its body was exposed. All he had to do was avoid being parried by the huge sword it wielded.

He weaved under the huge flamberge and brought his sabre up, aiming for the unarmoured flesh of its shield arm at the joint. His strike was surgical and precise, and the Knight's arm, and subsequently shield, fell off.

He had to keep moving forward to avoid the incoming strike of its flamberge. The Death Knight brought its momentum to an instantaneous halt to attempt to hit its opponent.

If he were a weaker or lesser being, the incoming strike would have hit him, but alas it did not.

Twisting around, he ducked under the diagonal strike and chopped off its other arm. An arrow impacted onto the Death Knight's breast plate, reminding Sygil of the skeleton archers remaining.

He ignored them for now, however, as he focused on finishing off the armless undead before him.

Its arm barely hit the ground as he brought his sabre up at neck level and horizontally swung.

The Death Knight might have been armless, but it was not entirely stupid, and it flicked its head to the side, exposing its armoured helmet to the incoming blade.

While the skeletons had weak armour, the Death Knight's armour was of a different calibre, and his blade, instead of striking rotten virtual flesh, cut into the helmet instead. The blade imbedded itself into the metal, refusing to cut any further, causing Sygil to raise an eyebrow.

The shadow-hounds, however, took advantage of the still target and exposed rotten face, and viciously tore into it.

Either the Death Knight didn't notice or didn't care, but it focused on moving its stumps for arms to try and crush Sygil. It was futile however, as Sygil quickly pulled his sabre from its helmet and spun faster than its arms could collide with his body.

He completed his spin by swinging his sabre into the Death Knight's exposed neck and finally decapitated it, sending its head flying. Its limbs went limp and it fell to its knees before slumping over, officially dead.

An arrow whistled through the air to Sygil, who quickly deflected it with the broader face of his sabre. _Slower than a bullet, that's for sure._

A second arrow was fired his way which he easily avoided. He quickly approached the two remaining skeletons and with a quick flourish of his sabre cut one down. The remaining skeleton backed away in an attempt to gain more distance to fire an arrow, but he merely recalled his other sabre that he had previously thrown.

The sabre went flying through the air back to Sygil, impaling itself in the remaining skeleton.

Sygil grabbed the skeleton roughly by the shoulder and spun it around. The skeleton attempted to resist, and surprisingly it was quite strong, but it mattered not. He grabbed the blade impaled in its chest by the handle, and swiftly decapitated it with his free sabre, before roughly pulling the other sabre from its ribcage, letting the skeleton crumple to the ground in a heap of bones.

After glancing around cautiously, he deemed there to be no immediate threats, so he began walking towards to the nearby exit where the amber light glow was.

As he got closer, he realised the glow was from the mine itself. Stepping out of the tunnel, Sygil was greeted with a massive cave clearing as wide around as a football field and twice as deep as the length of one.

The amber glow was from molten ores being poured into large vats by an automated, but crude, conveyor system at the bottom of the pit.

A steel, grated rail and walkway encompassed the entire 'pit', with stairs at intervals which descended down to the smelting and conveyor systems.

"It's impressive, isn't it."

Sygil wheeled around, sabres drawn, to face the speaker.

"Friendly, remember." Ulbert put his hands up in mock surrender.

"What are you doing here?"

"Following you, remember. You're meant to take the brunt of everything so I can deal with any high ranked players. Peroroncino is locked in a 1v2, but he'll win. Momonga and Touch-Me have teleported down to the lava bed three floors down."

"Uh-huh." Sygil nodded.

"Gotta admit though, I was surprised to see undead here as the defenders. Seraph is a holy guild. Or rather a bastardised offshoot of Seraphim." Ulbert muttered that last part to himself.

"So there shouldn't be undead here?" Sygil quirked an eyebrow.

"Mostly." Ulbert explained further, sensing Sygil's apprehension.

"They likely turned our guild's old defences and POP spawns and low tier summons to work for them once they stole this place. The undead you dealt were likely the first defence, though far from the most dangerous."

“And do pray tell what is more dangerous?”

“Me if you try any funny business.” There was no mistaking the cold air exuded by Ulbert.

“I believe we are supposed to be on the same team here,” started Sygil slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“We are,” Ulbert strutted past him towards a large sealed metal door that Sygil failed to notice earlier on his right.

“Just don’t go thinking this makes us equals. Stand back.”

Sygil was about to let loose a retort when he saw Ulbert’s hands begin to emit a faint amber glow, before outstretching his palms towards the sealed door.

He paid little heed to what Ulbert was chanting for his spell, only having enough basic sense to guess that it was something explosive intended for the door. Which was exactly what it was.

The resulting explosion either blew to door so far back deep into the room it was sealing, or outright disintegrated it. Either way, the door was no longer an obstacle, and as the smoke quickly cleared, Ulbert extended his hand to gesture for Sygil to enter.

“After you.”

“I thought we were taking the stairs?”

“Ah, but these are also stairs.” He quipped lightheartedly. He must have sensed Sygil’s unimpressed expression, because he quickly added, more seriously.

“This will let us clear the base more effectively until we meet up with Momonga. We’ll still end up at the bottom of the mine, but Peroroncino can provide some more effective cover from the air, so it’s better to leave that path for him.”

Sygil actually found himself agreeing with that strategy. However….

“I thought you said he was currently engaging two opponents? How can we guarantee support to cover our asses if he isn’t even present?”

They both entered the doorway and began to follow the winding hallway as it descended.

“Because it’s only some basic scrubs he’s dealing with when we last talked. He should be just about done.”

“If they’re so easy to deal with, then why all of this firepower?”

“Seraph isn’t entirely comprised of idiots. There are some competent players in their ranks. This way lets us not only guarantee victory, but it will also set an example to future raiders.”

Sygil nodded. They continued to trek in silence, checking every room they passed for any opponents, Player or NPC alike, but there were none.

They were nearly at the bottom of the pathway, and could see the closed doors that lead to the furnaces seen from above earlier.

“It’s pretty quiet right now for an attack? Where’s the enemy at?”

Ulbert hummed quietly to himself before responding cautiously. “Probably preparing an ambush I’d wager.”

Sygil spared a brief glance towards Ulbert, cracking a small grin. “Oh more than likely.”

By now, the door loomed before them as they came to a halt.

“Well, we’ll see what’s on the other side,” began Ulbert as he raised his hands, preparing his spell again for the next door.

Except, the door exploded before either of them were prepared, and not outwards.

The explosive blast sent the two door panels crashing directly into Sygil and Ulbert, in turn sending them flying backwards.

“Fuck!” The collective curse was uttered by both of them as Sygil crashed back-first into a wall, before unceremoniously sliding down. Ulbert, meanwhile, did a complete flip in the air and landed face-first on the ground with an audible ‘whump’.

Sygil was quick to get to his feet, with Ulbert following more slowly, growling out his grievances.

“Ya know, it’s not nice to do that to a guy.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not nice to break into somebody’s mine, either.”

Both Sygil and Ulbert snapped their head in the direction of the voice before them, watching as the silhouette of a humanoid approached through the clearing smoke. That silhouette split into two, then three figures.

Ulbert let loose a slow, dark chuckle.

“Oh the hypocrisy coming from your fucking mouth is so rich. It wasn't exactly easy for you to steal our mine, so I don't think you have boasting rights."

The trio of newcomers stopped, and Sygil was able to clearly distinguish the three. The central figure that was speaking was obviously a player, wearing armour similar to Touch-Me, albeit less bulky and without the cape.

Flanking him on either side were two white armoured guards, likely NPCs. They had a mixture of white and golden armour, but he barely had time to acknowledge them as the player suddenly sprung forth at them, swinging an overly-large sword at them both.

Fortunately Ulbert also detected the incoming sword strike and jumped back also. They both faced their assailant.

"Oh? So you owned this mine previously? A mere level 30, alongside a what, level 5 scrub?" The player seemed apprehensive, looking, what Sygil assumed pointedly, at him.

"Highly unlikely."

Sygil didn't know what the specific plan was, but he most certainly approved of Ulbert's.

"[Fireball]".

The enemy player didn't even have a chance to dodge to incoming attack spell, instead erupting into flames.

"AH FUCK!" The battle was on.

Sygil summoned his Spiked Chain and lashed out at the player, snagging him (he assumed it was a he) around the waste and thus keeping him trapped.

Ulbert capitalised on the hapless player. "[Magic Arrow]".

The spell hit the player dead-on the chest, but failed to eliminate him.

Sygil and Ulbert were just about to finish him off, when suddenly a large halberd came swiping down at Sygil.

Not having time to block, Sygil was forced to jump back, but subsequently let go of his Spiked Chain, allowing the player to get free and proceed to get up close and personal with Ulbert.

Sygil looked at his new opponent. It was an Angel. A bloody. Fucking. Angel. Lady luck apparently wanted to shit on him these days.

The Angel was covered head to toe with enchanted, silver and golden armour. An open helmet exposed an artistically crafted, regal face, and two plumes of brilliant white feathers adorned two large wings which were nearly as large as he was. In his hand was a large halberd that emitted a faint blue glow.

As the Angel slowly started to circle Sygil, he summoned his Katana and gripped the hilt with both hands, keeping his eyes trained on him the whole time, only to suddenly catch a flash of movement behind him.

He swung the Katana out sideways to parry the attempted ambush by the second NPC.

_Shit! Two Angels?! Fuck my life._

The second Angel was docrated almost identically to the first, but instead wielded a large, double-headed battleaxe.

He could hear Ulbert fighting the other player, as evidenced by the sound of magic, explosions, expletives and the occasional physical clash of steel.

The first Angel suddenly jumped in the air, utilising its wings to gain height and speed, before plummeting down at Sygil with its halberd.

Sygil parried the first strike, but with incredible dexterity, the Angel spun around and silently cast a minor explosive spell, sending Sygil off flying over some nearby rails.

Sygil plummeted down onto a conveyor belt, where he got a closer look at who, or what, the mine workers were.

They appeared to be angelic beings, judging by the white wings and flawless white clothes. However, they showed no sign of aggression or even any reaction at all to his presence which was likely disrupting the current working environment.

_If they don't want to fight, then fine by me. Less opponents to deal with._

The Angel suddenly leapt down with its halberd overhead. Sygil, in response to the incoming threat, backflipped onto his feet a metre behind where he was a second ago, avoiding the halberd that came crashing down.

He brought his katana up to parry a horizontal sweep, but the Angel was skilled and spun its halberd to try and slash his exposed legs from under. However, Sygil was also skilled and was quick to parry the halberd again.

This fast-paced blur of a spinning halberd being parried by a katana continued for a good 20 seconds, with no opening being made available. That was, until the second Angel leapt up, propelled by its wings.

The battleaxe came swinging down with tremendous force, forcing Sygil to step out of the way to avoid being pasted. Unfortunately, the first Angel capitalised on the movement, and swung forward with tremendous speed, bringing its halberd to bear on Sygil’s throat.

Sygil ducked down, avoiding a prompt decapitation. However, the second Angel leapt into the fray, swinging its battleaxe with violent intent and fervour, pushing Sygil onto the defensive. Meanwhile, the first quickly began to encircle Sygil from behind to kill him.

Sygil parried the onslaught of the battleaxe, but was quick to realise this fight wasn’t going to be exactly easy.

_Fuck, I need to separate these two._

As he parried another axe strike, he delivered a solid kick to the Angel’s stomach, temporarily stunning it, and allowing him time to spin around and bring his sword to bear on the other Angel.

Sadly, it deflected his strike with easy, and with an efficient twirl, forced Sygil out of an attempted lock.

Sygil was forced to spin back and deal with the axe-bearer who had quickly recovered and was swinging again, this time down low for his feet to unbalance him.

So, he jumped. Not high, just enough to avoid getting knocked of balance, but close enough so he could land on the axe, which he successfully did.

The sudden force, and weight, of his body landing on the blade slowed its momentum and stunned the axe-bearer, leaving him temporarily vulnerable. And Sygil wasted no time in capitalising on his new opening, thrusting his sword towards the angel’s exposed face.

However, the Angel was no slouch, and with impossible speed and precision, clappedhis palms to trap the incoming blade, before wrenching it out of Sygil’s grip.

Realising his blade was lost, he let go of it to prevent being imbalanced and exposed, instead seamlessly delivering a high kick to the Angel’s face, cracking it’s vile head backwards, causing it to stagger.

Wasting no time, with his other foot he kicked the battleaxe up into his nearest free hand, and then spun around and swung it with all of his might, blowing the other Angel’s halberd out of his hands, sending it spinning into the air.

Sygil quickly readied another follow-up swing to kill the Angel, axe-owner suddenly summoned his axe back, pulling him backwards with it, leaving him exposed to Halber-owner who delivered a wickedly hard punch directly to his face.

Sygil didn’t know whether to thank his demonic abilities or the game’s mysterious mechanics for preventing him from feeling any pain, so instead he rolled with the punch and let go of the axe.

His hands shot out and wrapped around the puncher’s extended hand, and then he twisted it, attempting to keel the Angel over. Alas, it didn’t work, and he felt the hard strike of the axe across the back of his skull, sending him crashing into the floor.

“Argh, shit! You bastards don’t fuck around.”

He instinctively rolled over to his side, just in time to avoid the other Angel’s halberd crashing down right where he was nought but a split second ago. A second crash resonated from the axe-bearer bringing his axe to bear on the same spot.

The combo would have killed somebody for sure under normal circumstances, but this was a game after all, and they both missed him.

And they were both briefly exposed right now, and so he summoned his spiked chain, shooting it into the axe-bearer’s face, sending him flying back into a nearby active furnace pot, which shook with the impact, spilling some molten ore overtop.

The briefest of glances revealed the large smelting pot was suspended by two large, heavy-duty chains. Chains, that if were broken, would spill their molten contents directly onto the stunned angel. And he only needed to break one. So, as the spiked chain whiplashed back, he shot it forward to the nearest chain.

It didn’t break the chain, but it did snugly wrap around it. Except, the halberd bearing Angel charged him, halberd raised high.

Sygil was quick to sidestep the Angel via a perfect spin. Not only did it get him to safety, but the force tugged on the chain with enough force to break it, spilling molten contents everywhere, and especially on his intended target, who let out a scream.

“Ardennes!” The halberd bearer suddenly screamed out, his voice laced with concern and emotion. Emotion to real to be programmed.

The Angel suddenly turned to Sygil , with absolute fury dripping from his voice as he growled.

“I’ll kill you, you heretic piece of shit!”

The raw emotion took Sygil aback as the Angel charged forth, swinging his halberd with equal fury.

The next 30 seconds were a crazed pace of parries and dodges from the Angel’s relentless onslaught as he exchanged his spiked chain in favour of his Katana. However, Sygil also felt his mind wander.

_Did he just speak? I thought they had programming limits? That sounded too real._

Sygil finally got the upper hand as the halberd came sweeping across. He parried it with his katana, hooking both blades and then twisting his arm to force the halberd blade to be lowered point-first onto the ground.

While he was temporarily exposed, so was the Angel, and he capitalised on it first.

He summoned his sabre in his free hand, before somersaulting over the locked blades and landing directly in front of his opponent, bringing his sabre crashing down into the Angel's chest. Or at least that would have happened had the angel not suddenly grabbed his sabre hand by the wrist to stop its premature death.

It had a vice-like grip, and before he could react, it started to cast a spell.

"[Holy Flame; Maximum Effe-]", however, before the Angel could finish its spell, he head-butted it straight in the face, temporarily preventing it from finishing the spell.

He used that opportunity to free his katana and perform a sweeping upwards slash. However, the Angel refused to let that happen, instead twisting Sygil's wrist in an attempt to bend him over. As the angel twisted, it kneed Sygil in the stomach, and then swept its leg from under Sygil's feet, knocking him to the ground.

The Angel then hoisted its halberd over its head, switching to a reverse grip to prepare a finishing blow.

Realising his opponent was quite serious and skilled, Sygil summoned several shadow-spikes from the nearby shadows to directly impale the Angel.

While the shadows failed to penetrate the Angel's high stats and enchanted armour, they were more than enough to unbalance the Angel and knock some HP off of it.

Sygil used the opportunity to slip out of the Angel's grasp, bounce back up on his feet, and start pushing the offensive with his Katana and sabre combined.

The Angel was suddenly on the defensive, under an onslaught of blurring sword strikes that were slowly chipping away its defense. However, the strikes were difficult to land due to the Angel's skills with the halberd. Even when he was able to land the odd strike, it did minimal damage.

_Tch. I have to remove this bastards weapon._

Seeing he was going no-where with the offensive, and he was in an unfavourable environment, Sygil wanted to fall back and better reorganise himself. However, if he did that, his opponent would get some breathing space. So he quickly went over his options.

He had a demonic seal on the top of his left hand which, when activated, would grant his weapons active unholy abilities, and therefore likely give him a literal cutting edge to bypass his opponent. By default, all of his weapons, save his guns, only had passive unholy abilities, i.e., they could bypass the flesh of a holy entity and a non-lethal strike could kill if an unholy infection. Armour was too difficult to reliably bypass.

However, he would need to cease his attack and perform the ritual quickly. While the ritual only took several seconds at most, it would be more than enough time for the Angel to press the attack again, and he didn't have the time, nor cover to safely perform the ritual.

There were also too many variables. Would the ritual even activate or, like his guns, would it short out on him? There was no guarantee it would, and even if it did, would it actually give him the extra edge needed?

He took in his surroundings, and realised they were near some mine entrance, however, he didn't let that stop his flurry of aggressive strikes.

The Angel held the halberd like a staff and was using both ends to block and parry the incoming sword strikes with unparalleled efficiency. Suddenly, the Angel somersaulted backwards out of range of Sygil's swords, landing gracefully on its feet whilst twirling its halberd.

Not wanting to lose his advantage, Sygil instantly summoned three shadow-hounds to pursue and rip apart his opponent. They were summoned instantly and started gunning for their adversary just as quickly.

They were in the mine shaft now which, while large enough to fit three people side-by-side and four metres high, was not large enough for the Angel to take advantage of its wings and make an escape via flying away. The Angel had no choice but to defend.

As the first hound came upon him, he sidestepped its pounce and brought his halberd down to expertly cut it. The blade, however, only predictably passed through the smoky shadows. If the Angel was surprised or even cared, it didn't show it, instead swinging its halberd up to defend against the second hound that had now arrived.

The hound's teeth snapped shut onto the blade of the halberd as the Angel was left face-to-face with the unholy beast. However, the third shadow-hound had arrived.

While its second counterpart was locked against the halberd, it swiftly targeted the Angel's exposed legs like a predatory, hoping to cripple its opponent.

The Angel had no time to react as the hound viciously latched onto its leg, and the buckling of steel could be heard as its teeth attempted to penetrate the holy armour.

The first hound, having circled back, pounced on the angel's exposed wings, hungrily tearing in to them.

The Angel could be heard letting out a grunt as it briefly curled up before throwing its arms wide and casting a holy spell.

"[Light of God; Expulsion of Darkness]!"

A flash of white light could be seen, and suddenly a shockwave could be felt as the shadow-hounds were flung off of their prey.

Sygil couldn’t help but curse at the Angel’s persistence, letting loose an angry growl.

“You’re a persistent little shit aren’t you.”

“I could say the same about you,” shot at an equally frustrated voice.

Sygil’s head shot around to find the source of the voice.

_Is there an actual player here?! Where?_

However, the origin of the voice wasn’t from a nearby player. Instead, the voice was originating from…

“You can speak?” Sygil was incredulous for only the briefest of seconds, before instantly chiding himself for his own stupidity.

_A computer generated AI cannot speak to you outside of its designated programming._ But then.

“Of course I… did….” The Angel’s audible anger suddenly transitioned into confusion.

“Wha…? Impossible. You’re a player. I can’t possibly speak to you. This isn’t… what’s going on!”

The Angel’s confusion slowly gave into what sounded like apprehension and fear.

The hounds were no longer stunned and began circling their opponent whilst remaining more wary.

The Angel suddenly adopted a more defensive stance, fear being replaced with resolve.

"I knew I felt something was off the moment I detected your presence."

_Is this just a scripted speech, or is this thing actually speaking to me?_

"You are not natural; you don't emit a presence like the other players. You are an anomaly." The Angel's voice was hardened as he glared at Sygil. He merely glared back harder.

"What makes you say that," _I'm having a conversation with an AI. I hope no-one thinks I'm insane._

The Angel let loose a low chuckle. "We are having this conversation. We cannot talk with players outside of our prescribed directives of what we are expected to respond with, since their presence is so overwhelming. You, however, don't have that presence, at least, not completely."

Sygil, however, was using this lull in the battle to pull his left glove off, exposing his demonic seal.

Placing his right hand on top of the strange black tattoo, Sygil began to activate the seal.

A red crimson glow suddenly emitted from his seal. Sygils swords started to cackle with faint red electricity, before fading to just a slight red glow.

He could feel the dark power radiating within his body and his weapons. The Angel before him would be at his mercy now.

"Well, you can continue hypothesising over philosophy and hypotheticals. I’m going to finish what you started."

The NPC before him didn't even respond, instead casting an offensive spell.

"[Maximise Holy Fire]".

A beam of white fire/light shot towards Sygil, who expertly used his shadows to teleport away and apparate behind the Angel.

Before the Angel could respond, Sygil slashed his swords horizontally across the Angel. The Angel, however, quickly brought its halberd to defend itself, blocking the incoming strikes. However, it was left exposed to the hounds now, which wasted no time assaulting the hapless NPC.

In an effort to save itself, the Angel cast "[Light of God; Expulsion of Darkness]". It was enough to at least get the hounds off of it, but Sygil was still locking blades with it.

However, Sygil could still vaguely feel the spell as it went through his body, specifically his already injured shoulder.

Regardless, it wasn't able to hinder him, so he kept pressing forth, using sheer strength to overpower the Angel.

Seeing that it was currently in a losing fight, the Angel desperately tried to back off and head to the more open and exposed smelting room that they were in originally.

The Angel leapt as high as it could in the enclosed tunnel and used its wings to propel itself backwards, and at wicked speeds, it flew out of the tunnel. Sygil, however, was not too keen on losing his prey just yet, and he quickly summoned his Spiked Chain, lashing it out at the retreating Angel.

The chain lassoed around the Angel's neck, quickly jerking the retreating NPC back. Sygil quickly ran and jumped into the air, drop-kicking the Angel in mid-air.

As both crashed to the ground, an explosion could be heard going off.

Sygil glanced in its direction and caught a glimpse of Ulbert battling the player from before.

A quick cursory glance at his Angel opponent revealed he wasn’t moving anytime soon.

_Hope you stay dead._

Sygil wasted no time in rushing towards where Ulbert was.

"How the hell are you still alive? You're bloody Level 5?!" It was Ulbert's opponent. Apparently, he had evaded Ulbert and was hanging back, directing several low-tier Angel NPCs, not like the one Sygil was currently fighting.

Ulbert stepped forth in front of the player. "Oh, that, well it’s simple," Ulbert suddenly removed a ring from on his finger, revealing his true stats and skill levels for everyone to bear witness to.

The angel player suddenly stepped back.

"What?! You're level 100?! But-but…." "But nothing. You've been played like the fool you are. Now, just like any fool, you will meet your end early. [Magic Arrow; Maximise]".

The spell shot forth and hit the player in the face, sending him flying backwards. The angelic NPC's he was commanding, however, instantly took flight and started to swarm Ulbert, who started to fend them off.

Sygil made a move to intervene, when suddenly the Angel he had been fighting appeared before, halberd at the wide, ready to strike. A cold voice spoke, loud enough for only Sygil to hear.

"Your fight's with me, remember," then the halberd came striking down.

Sygil parried with his sabre, but his Spiked Chain was too close to be of any real use, and the Angel decided to try and use that against him. With a free hand, the Angel grabbed the blade of the Spiked Chain, showing no obvious damage from it, and roughly tugged on it in an attempt to disorient and unbalance Sygil. While Sygil internally applauded the effort, it was useless, as he instantly dematerialised it, bringing his fist straight into the Angel's face.

The Angel staggered back, but before it could even react, Sygil grabbed the halberd with his free hand and quickly shoved it like a staff into the Angel's stomach to further disorient it.

Because of the Angel's higher stats, the attack didn't work, but Sygil regardless followed it through by freeing his sword from the halberd, and with a mighty strike from his sabre blade, struck the Angel's hand grasping the halberd.

Somehow, by some mechanic, luck or maybe skill, the Angel released its hold on the halberd, and when it did, the halberd vanished, leaving its user currently weapon-less, though not necessarily defenceless.

"[Greater Hardening]". Sygil's sword struck the Angel's torso, and while it failed to slice through the armour, especially due to the spell, his sword did manage to embed itself into its armour. The Angel, somehow, emitted an emotion of surprise, even though its facial features did not noticeably change. Sygil could somehow detect the slight shift in atmosphere, as if the NPC Angel before him were emitting real human emotions.

He discarded those thoughts and quickly summoned a second sabre in his free hand and rammed the blade a hard as he could into the Angel's exposed face.

While the blade was now enhanced, glowing a faint red due to the ritual, it still failed to bypass the Angels armour, or in this case magical aura or protection field, Sygil didn't know which. However, it must have done some damage, as the Angel's entire body produced a faint red flash from the impact.

He swung his sabre again, hitting the angel in the shoulder, and again the red flash occurred, with the Angel noticeably grunting as if something was painful.

He didn't know whether or not the grunts were real or just automated, but he could hazard a guess that it was taking damage, and sooner or later it would give, and so he proceeded to rapidly hack away at the Angel.

The vicious assault was too fast for the Angel to counter effectively, especially without a weapon, and so it was helpless against Sygil.

It didn't take long for Sygil to wear it down to the point it collapsed on its knees, completely at the mercy of its assailant. Sygil rested both sabres in an X across the Angel's neck, ready to deliver the finishing blow.

Ulbert, who had finished dealing with the summoned angelic NPCs, glanced over at Sygil.

"Nice one! Now. Finish it off and we can deal with the last remaining players."

Sygil didn't even hesitate, after all, it was but a mere game for him. Instead of a headless corpse rolling on to the ground, the Angel instead disintegrated into a dozen blue crystal orbs which floated to him and appeared to be 'absorbed'.

He didn't have time to ponder over what just happened as he saw a flash of colourful lights exploding nearby, signifying the arrival of Momonga and Touch-Me.

Touch-Me and Momonga duking it out between two other players, while Peroroncino helped mop up some of the other NPCs from the air. Ulbert was finishing executing his opponent, and all around him, a range of colours and noises flashed in and out as various spells, buffs and debuffs were cast.

It was absolute chaos around him. Players and NPCs alike joined into the fray, spreading and delivering messy violence to their opponents without restraint. However, it was in this chaos that Sygil could ambush an unsuspecting opponent. And a cursory glance of the battlefield revealed one such target, all alone, sniping away at his contractors with a bow and arrow.

_Easy pickings._

He wasted no time in using his shadow teleportation to arrive mere metres behind the unsuspecting plater.

A predatory smirk found itself creeping onto his face as he brandished his sabre and stalked over to the target.

His target was just notching another arrow when he shot out his spiked chain. The barbed links wrapped around and embedded themselves on his targets body, and with a quick tug, he reeled and spun the startled player right into his waiting blade.

His sabre penetrated right through the player’s armour, effectively killing him on the spot. Or rather, generating an angry scream as he was forced to respawn far away.

Alas, his victory was short-lived. The whistle of a large blade coming from behind was the only warning he got, and even then, it wasn’t enough.

The blade crashed into his back, send him careening forwards.

“It’s not nice to pick on someone like that.”

He managed to twist his head around to face the condescending voice.

_Why does everyone in this game have the same oversized damn armour._

Picking himself off the ground, Sygil readied his sabre. However, the player before him wasn’t interested, and instead extended his hands, before a ball of white light suddenly exploded from his fingertips.

The flash was enough to blind him.

_Shit!_

Instinctively, he summoned his spiked chain, and lashed out in a forward arc to prevent getting rushed. Only, the player before him didn’t rush, and instead cast another spell before the effects of the last one could wear off of Sygil.

The ground underneath him exploded as arcs of electricity shot up everywhere, engulfing and dancing off of him and nearby surfaces.

The sheer force sent him flying upwards.

He barely reached a peak altitude when the player shot up, slashing his sword into Sygil.

The swing batted Sygil away like a baseball, sending him crashing into a nearby conveyor belt.

It was fortunate it was only a game, therefore he was not as dazed as he ought to be from such a beating.

Shadows materialised from his hands, before forming a more recognisable shape. His hounds.

Without any need for a verbal command, the shadows shot forward towards the player, splitting into four distinct hounds.

However, the player ignored them, opting to charge Sygil by foot. As the hounds reached him, the player suddenly emitted a blue light, and the hounds suddenly dissipated when they pounced on him.

_Oh great! Another overpowered juggernaut. I really hate this whole plan. And I hate this fucking game._

Sygil summoned his sabre in his free hand, and brandished his spiked chain in the other.

And then, the player was on him, bringing his sword in for an overhead strike.

Sygil lashed out with his spike chain, wrapping it firmly around the blade shaft, before giving it a solid tug to prematurely bring the blade crashing short of him.

The player, however, countered by thrusting a free hand towards Sygil’s face.

“[Acid-Bomb][Maximum Effect].”

Sygil swung his sword to dismember his free hand, when suddenly a sickly green explosion knocked him backwards.

He could feel some strange substance coating him from head to toe, obscuring his vision. The hiss of steam accompanied the faint foggy wisps he could vaguely see rising from him.

_What the fu-?_

He didn’t have time to finish that train of thought as a hand shot out and wrapped itself around his throat, before hoisting him up.

“[Skill-Drain: No Mercy].”

The voice was cold and resolute.

Suddenly, the player started to glow a faint golden hue, as if priming for the spell to begin.

_Shit, I need to get out of this!_

However, he was trapped by the player. His hounds didn’t seem to work against, he couldn’t bring his sword up on a good enough angle.

_Quick, think!_

However, it was not to be, until?

“Heyo matie!”

_Peroroncino?_

The player whipped his head around, right into the tip of the notched arrow aimed by Peroroncino at the back of his head, point blank.

The player didn’t have time to react.

The reverberating twang was the only sound the three of them could hear, as an enchanted arrow penetrated through the player’s skull, snapping his head back.

His grip on Sygil immediately slackened, and Sygil wasted no time in jumping to the side, immediately summoning his sabre and stabbing it into the players exposed throat.

The body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

“Damn, dude. You only needed to worry about the NPCs. Not tackle the actual friggin’ guild-master of Seraph!”

Sygil wanted to scowl at Peroroncino, but his chuckling made realise it was all in jest.

Suddenly, Peroroncino thrust a red bottle in his face.

“Here, take a healing potion. You took one hell of a beating from him. I’m not surprised you did, the guy’s like Level 95. I am surprised you survived all that though.”

He eyed the offered bottle cautiously. He honestly didn’t know how safe or effective it would be, and he didn’t want to take unnecessary risks.

However, Peroroncino wasn’t having any of it, and practically shoved the bottle into his chest.

“Just take it. We’re not done here yet!”

Sygil reluctantly accepted it, glancing at Peroroncino.

He merely shrugged before jumping, his wings taking him up high as he re-joined the fray.

He glanced back at the bottle.

_Well… Might as well try. Not like my day can get any worse._

And so, pulling the cork off, he tipped the contents into his mouth.

Surprisingly, the mechanic for drinking worked. However, it seemed to be lacking something. Like the fluid didn’t go far enough down to his stomach, instead as if vanishing at the back of his throat. Additionally, there was no taste, just the sensation of a viscous, cool liquid spreading throughout his mouth, like honey.

But then, he felt it.

Like a vague sensation of relief washing over his entire body.

He glanced down, and couldn’ note any visible changes – _Wait, all that acid is gone?_

Sure enough, all of the acid clinging to him was completely gone, leaving him spotless as if it had never encountered him.

However, those were the only noticeable effects.

He stared at the empty bottle, before slowly glancing up where he could see Momonga, Touch-Me and Ulbert battling a few NPCs and players, quickly dispatching them.

_Well, time to join the fray._

Without further ado, he brandished his sabre and sprinted towards a nearby NPC.

He threw the empty bottle with pinpoint accuracy, the glass shattering against the NPCs head, catching its pitiful attention, only to be quickly cut down by the sabre.

Two remaining enemy players faced off against his contracotrs, but they must have panicked and realised the fight was lost. They quickly dropped a smoke bomb or spell, before retreating into a nearby room behind them, slamming the metal door behind them in a vain attempt to slow them down.

Sygil jogged over to his allies. Momonga was preparing an intricate spell near the door, while Touch-me and Peroroncino were chatting.

“Ah, Sygil. You made it,” called out Ulbert. The slime, Hero-Hero was also next to him.

“Great. Now the whole gang’s here,” grunted Momonga.

“I’m just about ready to blow this door open. Once I do, we’ll enter fast and hard. Touch-Me, Sygil, you can go first; we’ll follow.”

“Sure thing Momo,” nodded Peroroncino.

Sygil readied his sabres. “Won’t they have a head start on us?”

Ulbert merely laughed. “They’ve boarded themselves in conference room. There is nowhere for them to escape. They are solidly fucked now.”

“Let’s go!” Everyone could tell Momonga was grinning as he spoke. And the very next second, the door exploded inwards.

Touch-Me was the first to enter, but then the doorway exploded again, spraying ice everywhere.

He wasn't sure how the magic system and defences of Yggdrasil players operated, but theoretically he assumed Touch-Me and Momonga would have been blown back and taken some damage. As the smoke cleared and the ice settled, however, the two players hadn't even budged, showing no signs of damage. Momonga suddenly let out a chuckle.

"That was so weak of an attack, fufufufu."

The assailant was the very player that Ulbert had been previously battling.

"Tch. You bastard!"

Ulbert let out a sinister chuckle at the player’s misfortune. “Hehehehe, you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you!” The player defiantly readied a materialised sword and shield.

“Cute. But it’s over. You lost,” dismissed Momonga.

“You think you’ll get away with stealing our mine from us! We’ll hunt you down and – “

“ _Your_ mine?” Everyone seemed to chuckle darkly at that save for Sygil and the enemy player.

By now, everyone had entered the large conference room, forming a semi-circle near single doorway.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. _You_ stole this mine from _us_. We are simply claiming back what is ours.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Simple,” chuckled Momonga, waving his arms dramatically as Peroroncino notched an arrow.

“We… are Ains. Ooal. Gown.”

And then Peroroncino let loose an arrow, straight into the player’s chest, killing him instantly.

Everyone was about to relax and begin looting, but Sygil strode next to Momonga.

“Where is the other player?”

“HERE MOTHERFUCKER!”

Everyone snapped around in the direction of the voice, just in time to see an explosion of white magic, before a humanoid shape rocketed towards Momonga and Tocuh-Me, screaming like a banshee.

_Is this idiot actually going to attempt an attack? Is he suicidal?_

Sygil was the nearest, and so he wasted no time in leaping forward to tackle the player, his sabre extended.

With his sabre bared, Sygil rushed to intercept the attack, his blade colliding with the suicidal player who was screaming fanatically. But then he felt it.

He could feel a rapid build-up of heat and energy, before the player locked with him literally exploded violently, bathing the immediate area in blinding white light.

When the light finally faded, there was nothing but a large scorch-mark where Sygil was standing. Sygil's blades had dissipated, though not of his own volition. The explosion of holy magic had destroyed his sabre, and he could feel a light burning sensation coursing throughout his body.

He slowly withdrew, standing tall, while Momonga nonchalantly mused.

"Hmm, [Holy Bomber]. A 5th Tier holy spell." He shook his head in disappointment. "Did he really think such a weak spell would harm me, or Touch-Me? Or that his suicide would do something? What an idiot."

Sygil internally winced. _Wow, that's harsh._

Touch-Me directed his attention towards Sygil as Peroroncino and Ulbert gathered around.

"Regardless of how unnecessary your protection was, I thank you for your selfless attempted sacrifice. Such a show devotion and loyalty, especially towards someone you don't know is commendable."

_Sacrifice? Devotion? Mate, had I known the guy was a fucking kamikaze I wouldn’t have tackled him. It’s just more profitable for me if you are alive._

He, of course, didn't voice that out loud, however. He was about to speak out, but then a thought crossed his mind in realisation.

_Thus could be beneficial though? If they think I was willing to give my life, they might be more willing to grant me what I need._

Momonga was contemplating the situation, and was honestly weighing up Peroroncino's earlier suggestion to terminate Sygil. However, with his selfless act, he had proven some level of integrity. Besides, Touch-Me and Hero-Hero were congratulating him. Still…..

**You have a new message from: Yggdrasil Development Team**

_Huh, what's this?_

As Ulbert, Touch-Me, Peroroncino and Sygil interacted, he decided to open up the new message.

**Hello Momonga,**

**We, as the Development Team of Yggdrasil, take great pride in providing the most secure, safe and fun environment for players to enjoy. As such, we take any and all inquests concerning cheating and inappropriate behaviour seriously.**

**In light of your recent submission concerning player username: - Sygil Amadeus- , we have investigated the account records and activity.**

**It is to our great delight and reassurance that, in light of our findings, we announce that player username: - Sygil Amadeus- , has been found to contain a clean account with no suspicious records or account activity.**

**We thank you for your vigilance in actively identifying potential system abusers. We hope you will continue to enjoy your Yggdrasil experience and look forward to hearing from you again in the future.**

**Sincerely**

\- **Yggdrasil Development Team**

He had to re-read the message again to confirm the findings of the development team. While he was somewhat surprised, and secretly relieved, at the findings of the development team, he was doubly so surprised at the speed of the response from the developers.

_This came back within the day. Normally, this should take three days to a week._

Regardless, he was relieved, but it also meant he had less of a reason to kill Sygil.

_Considering what he did for us, as well as his selflessness, I suppose we can spare him and utilise his services._

He decided to speak to his fellow guild-members through the private message system without Sygil listening in. While the developers were annoying at times, they were seldom wrong when convicting a player of illicit behaviour or conduct.

_Momonga: Can you guys hear me?_

_Peroroncino: Loud as a doorbell Momo._

_Momonga: Good. I just got a message back from the devs._

_Ulbert: Really?_

_Momonga: Yeah. It's concerning Sygil_

_Touch-Me: Well, that was quick._

_Momonga: Yes. They checked him out._

_Ulbert: And?_

_Momonga: He's clear. No suspicious account activity. Perfectly clean._

_Ulbert: Still, that's pretty quick. Are you sure they are right?_

_Momonga: Well, that's what I wanted to ask you guys about. I didn't see him fight too much, so you'll have to be the final judge about that._

_Ulbert: Well, he was pretty consistent. He dealt with the Death Knights and trash mobs pretty easily enough. Once he got to the Mid-Tier Angels, he experienced some difficulties, I think, but I didn't get to see and focus on the whole fight. He won, though._

_Peroroncino: He went up against Mordhai._

_Hero-Hero: Seraph’s guild-master? Ouch. What happened?_

_Peroroncino: Got his ass handed to him. Saved him. He didn’t do anything sus from what I could see. What levels were the Angels?_

_Touch-Me: I believe level 60._

_Ulbert: Seems about right._

_Momonga: Well, if you didn't notice anything suspicious, then I suppose he is innocent._

_Peroroncino: So what do we do with him?_

_Momonga: Since he did do his part, and isn't cheating, we give him what he wants._

_Ulbert: What, you mean actually let him waltz right into our base?_

_Hero-Hero: He isn’t guilty, and acted normally. Plus, he seemed to exhibit some selfless behaviour. I say go for it._

_Peroroncino: It might be difficult, though, since he isn't a guild member, one of us would have to be with him at all times._

_Touch-Me: And unfortunately, I have a pretty long shift coming up this week, so I won't be able to log on at all._

_Peroroncino: Same._

_Touch-Me: Well, how about….._

_Ulbert: How about what?_

_Touch-Me: Regardless of what we suspected, he did attempt to stop a suicide attack, no matter how weak, by jumping directly in-front of it. That does warrant some recognition._

_Peroroncino: So, you think we should give him an immunity item from the NPC's?_

Momonga could be heard chuckling.

_Touch-Me: I'm not saying anything, but I think maybe we could grant him a membership deal. Besides, no-one else logs on anymore._

_Momonga: I don't know. He said he was busy and he would join us later._

_Ulbert: Back to the matter at hand, membership deal?_

_Touch-Me: I'm not saying anything. But we should recognise his efforts. Plus, he's not guilty of cheating, from what we're seeing._

_Ulbert: Are you serious? One little mission doesn’t absolve someone. Besides, we don’t even know if he meets the three requirements!_

_Hero-Hero: So what, he’s desperate?_

_Ulbert: Probably._

_Touch-Me: Regardless, he fulfilled his end of the bargain. Now we have to fulfil ours._

_Momonga: I agree with Touch-Me._

_Peroroncino: Well, in order for us to honour our end of the deal, we need to grant him access to our library. How about we instead offer him a chance to join Ains Ooal Gown, and in exchange for continued access to our library, he can perform mercenary work for us?_

_Hero-Hero: It would save us a lot of gold and resources from creating mercenary NPCs. I think it would be okay, considering he's clear for cheating._

_Momonga: I can agree with that.Is that acceptable to you Ulbert?_

_Ulbert: I… I still think we’re being foolish to grant someone membership right off the bat. However, it’s not like we play much anymore anyways._

_Hero-Hero: We can still watch him and limit his movements. It’s just this will make it easier instead of one of us having to be present every time an NPC loses their mind at a non-member._

_Ulbert: I guess. Just, I don’t want a repeat of Arche. We never got our shit back from that prick._

_Touch-Me: Then why don’t we task Sygil with retrieving it, and if he succeeds and brings it back to us without running off with it, then we grant him a membership. In the meantime, we can let him enter our library._

_Ulbert: You know Touch-Me, that might actually work._

_Momonga: Then it is decided. I can take him to the library, and if he brings back the equipment Arche stole from us, then we can grant him membership. All we need to do now is to ask if he agrees to it._

_Peroroncino: Sounds good to me!_

_Hero-Hero: Yup._

* * *

Sygil was standing off to the side, casually inspecting the nearby mining equipment and smelting furnaces just outside of the conference room when Momonga suddenly called out.

"Sygil!"

Sygil turned to face Momonga and his group, walking back to them.

"Yes?"

"We have a proposition for you….."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter came out a few hours later than intended. But, real-life delays happen and they suck. Here it is, and technically it's still Saturday, depending on where in the world you are, so I still meet the deadline.  
> So this chapter has undergone some edits and overhauls. If you want to, you can check out the original version posted on FFN.net to compare and contrast.  
> So I added some more conversation and scepticism from Ulbert, as a little tension never hurts anything.  
> I kept most of the fight scenes, but just added and expanded them, as well as added new ones. I was always dissapointed with this chapter, it felt like Sygil didn't really do much in terms of action and contribution considering what his role was. Well, here it's been fixed and he's now more involved.  
> I also removed some of the cringey dialogue between the enemy players, and opted for something more fluid. I hope that turned out well, let me know if it's still needing improvement.  
> I also gve Sygil more opponents, and improved the transition for NPC awareness to feel more seamless and realistic (or at least I attempted to). I'm trying to fix my writing to be more of a case of show rather than tell, and letting you as the reader make the important connections so it reads more as an engaging story rather than direct narration. That tends to get stuffy and boring real quick, I feel. Let me know if it still needs improving.  
> I also patched the ending fight scene so Sygil's 'self-less' act is more coincidental rather than deliberate. I want to not lose focus on some aspects of who he is. He's intended to be a demon, and while he does have some moral standards, I don't want him to be entirely nice, nor as stupid to risk tackling a kamikaze. He's still new to Yggdrasil. I also tried to showcase that by having him essentially get curbstomped by higher ranked players. He can manage himself, but let's be real, he's out of his comfort zone. Maybe one day he can easily kill a level 95, but I want to have him work towards that, and have it seem more plausible.  
> And finally, the end proposition. I still feel it works out, even in the original, it's just that it feels too rushed. I want to put a delay in there, and make it seem more like something Sygil has to work towards. He's only just met Ains Ooal Gown, and one mission isn't enough to solidify everyone's trust/opinion. However, I also want to move this story along. The focus of Sygil is intended to be in the New World, not here. Yggdrasil is just background building after all, as those who have read the original know. I just want to patch it up.  
> And that should sum everything up in a nutshell.  
> The next chapter will be 3-4ish days from now. Preferably without any real-life delays this time. See you then!  
> Peace


	6. Light, the Creator of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights to Overlord and its respective content.  
> Notes at the end as usual.

**Light, the Creator of Life**

It had been two months since he had accepted the proposition, and tracked down Arche. It proved to be a fairly challenging battle, mostly due to his lack of information pertaining to Yggdrasil. However, he had emerged victorious, and as per the deal, he returned the stolen items back to Momonga.

Afterwards, he was finally granted membership and now a fully active member of Ains Ooal Gown. Though, the remaining guild-members themselves were rarely active.

He hadn’t seen Hero-Hero since their initial encounter, and Touch-Me and Ulbert rarely ever logged on. Peroroncino had logged on only once, and the only other person that frequented was the guild-master Momonga himself. However, he could care less. Ains Ooal Gown honoured their end of the deal, and at the end of his first mission he was granted access to the library. And once he became a fully-fledged member, he now had unlimited access.

During the time since he started working for Ains Ooal Gown, he had undertaken several tasks to help benefit the guild. In the process, he had managed to build his rank up to Level 80, expanding on his 'Heteromorph' class stats and skills. Frankly, he cared little for the process. It was merely a by-product of his actions, and it didn't hinder him, so it was ultimately inconsequential as far as he was concerned.

While he initially thought nothing of his rank-up process and the speed which he had accomplished it so far, he had learnt that, through careful trialling and experimentation, his real-life skills and supernatural attributes as a real demon had to an extent carried over to the game. This was most notable in his weapons, or at least the ones he was permissible to wield in Yggdrasil.

His personal weapons contained an unholy aura due to their supernatural imbuements, and as such they easily compared to and rivalled many of the higher class Yggdrasil weapons in terms of strength and penetration. As he had ranked up, his weapons were more easily able to bypass and penetrate higher class armour and even some weapons. However, the drawback was he couldn't customise or upgrade them. Additionally, they were not able to bypass or severely negate some special items or enchantments. However, since he only mostly dealt with opponents under level 80, this wasn't too much of a concern for him. However, he still had no idea how his weapons would stack up against someone at level 100. Though, he was not overly worried about that ever happening.

From what Momonga told him, strength and stats exponentially grew with each level. A level 2 NPC was twice as strong as a level 1 NPC, and a level 3 NPC was twice as strong as a level 2 NPC, at least in theory. By that standard, he could somewhat understand the initial scepticism concerning his feats as a Level 1 defeating a group of Level 40's, though he stood by his conclusion that they utilised poor communication and failed to coordinate and cooperate properly.

What contributed the most to his fast rank-up was the fact he had successfully defeated several foes many levels higher than him, and he was therefore able to skip through some of the earlier levels. As he ranked higher, it took longer for him to rank up.

Another thing he had learnt was that while he could rank up, he was not privy to many stats and skills since his racial status was ultimately unknown, or indecisive, whichever it was. Honestly, he didn't care too much. Though, it did make some of his in-game assignments either interesting, or frustrating. So instead, he mostly applied his actual demonic skills he had inherited before.

His holy infection had not spread at all, remaining in limbo while he was in-game, much to his relief. Essentially, he had plenty of time to research for a solution, as well as resolve any other dilemmas. The problem was the sheer quantity of information provided. Any spare time he had was spent researching how to resolve his infection.

The research was going well, and he originally supposed it was mundane, however he discovered something which made him doubly cautious and even concerned.

While he actively avoided leaving the in-game world of Yggdrasil as it prolonged his life without holy infection and granted him more time to find a solution, there were the odd times he did have to leave the game, and when he did, he noticed an immediate effect. Some of the skills and attributes he had acquired in Yggdrasil were, to a limited extent, transferred into his real-life body outside of the game. For instance, performance enhancing abilities within Yggdrasil which increased speed, strength and agility were able to be applied within the real world. However, they were more like an after-shadow effect, and only temporary, lasting a couple hours at most. Actual fantasy-related skills were not applicable.

Another major concern was when he did leave the holy injury of his would flare up with even more intensity than the last time, being more painful and long-lasting. It was almost as if the injury were slowly compounding on itself. Ultimately, though, it didn't appear to be progressing any worse, so that was a relief _. Unlike the NPC's reaction_.

That was another baffling concern of his.

The NPC's failed to act like a typical AI would dictate them to. Or at least when they were around him.

Whenever Momonga or any of the other guild-members were around, the NPCs behaved rigidly and with absolute loyalty, as if they were almost sensing a sensation of enjoyment from serving them. It also had a name as far as he was concerned. Fanaticism. However, around him, it was almost as if they seemed to show subtle signs of actual life, outside of the bound perimeters of their programming. The NPC's would always seem to be subtly watching or glaring at him when presented an opportunity. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. Either way, it didn't disillusion him from the fact that he didn't exactly feel welcomed by the NPCs.

Momonga said that by him becoming a member of the guild, the NPC's should stop behaving with hostility around him, allowing him to act unimpeded. It was true that the open hostility was gone, but it was instead replaced with caution, or wariness. Maybe he was just overanalysing things. He seemed to spend most of his life inside this virtual world. And frankly, he enjoyed it more than the real world in some ways. For obvious reasons such as his limbo injury, and the fact the Holy Order wouldn't be able to easily pursue him. But also because of how relatively peaceful and simple life was now. In some ways it was sickening, having spent what felt like a lifetime constantly fighting and killing, and being stuck in dark, twisted deals and plans of others. But here, he daresay he felt free.

He wondered how other players such as Momonga felt, now that he actually thought about it. They didn't have as much of a luxury for freedom as he did, being confined to a set job, four walls and a virtual reality to stay entertained. In ways it made him feel old, as he remembered, vaguely, some of his childhood memories from a long time ago.

The memories were foggy and somewhat difficult to recall, having been stained with so many more violent memories dating to the present. But what little he did remember of his childhood was it was far from as depressing as what people nowadays were going through. At least he didn't spend his childhood strapped to a virtual reality box. He remembered enjoying the fresh air, when it was still fresh.

Regardless, he was content. He felt content to live his life in this false reality for the time being. It felt like a much needed holiday, and he was planning on enjoying it while he studied different concepts. Besides, it wasn't like the game was going to be shut down or crash anytime soon. He subconsciously chuckled at his predicament.

_Indeed. What does Momonga actually think of all of this?_

He barely finished his train of thought when a voice interrupted. "Hello Sygil. It's good to see you again."

_Ah. Speak of the devil._

"Indeed, Guild-master." He spared a glance in the Liche's direction.

"You have work for me?"

Momonga seemed to pause for a second, and due to the avatar limitations, it was difficult for Sygil to acquire a proper psychological read on him to interpret what mix of emotions Momonga was experiencing until he spoke again.

"No. Not for a bit anyway. You have made a bit of a name for yourself now. You know that?"

Sygil merely shook his head gently. "No. Not at all. I don't spend much of my time browsing the forums and such. So I'm not the most up to date person."

Momonga nodded slowly before adding sombrely. "I see." Before Sygil could question any further, Momonga seemed to perk up more cheerily. "Do you want to increase your rank even further without more grinding?"

Sygil nodded cautiously. While there wasn't much Momonga could do to actually harm in the real life, he still wanted to be wary of any and all people, just as a safety precaution. "Maybe."

Either Momonga ignored Sygil's scepticism or didn't care. "Good. We're gonna get you to build your own NPC's."

"…."

"…."

"I'm sure I don't follow. Why do I need to build my own NPCs. I'm perfectly content just to read your extensive library, which, by the way, has so much reading material. Is this where the Alexander Library went after it was burnt down? Jesus Christ!"

"The what now?"

"Nevermind, Momonga."

"Well, Yamaiko-sama was always infatuated with our library. She was always adding stuff to it and porting over information from the internet. Anything and everything, it would seem."

Momonga seemed to speak more softly as he remembered another member that he hasn't seen log in for a long time, before speaking more seriously.

"Anyways. Do you want me to show you how? It should help you rank up. You will have to invest some resources in to it, but Nazarick has plenty of resources for you to choose from."

Sygil quirked an eyebrow. Momonga had long become desensitised to the perceived facial animations.

"Really? But I thought those were untouchable, and required guild-members approval to use?"

Momonga lightly chuckled in mirth. "Sygil. You keep forgetting, that you _are_ a member at this stage. Besides. I'm the guild master. My word is technically final."

Sygil felt a little unsure, however. "Even though you place everything to a democratic vote?"

Momonga looked downcast at the mention of the other guild-members.

"About that Sygil. I don't think it really matters at this stage. No-one else really tends to log on anymore. I've asked, but real life issues tend to force them to be unavailable."

So there it was. The cat was out of the bag. Momonga was ultimately depressed at what he felt was the abandonment of his close friends. In a way, he could relate, having been betrayed in the past by those close to him. But he moved on and became stronger for it. Would Momonga?

"Well then, let's go have a try, then. Eh?" While he didn't feel responsible for Momonga, he could at least try to cheer him up by indulging in this little request of his. Besides, maybe then he could get a chance to see what made the NPC's tick and behave the way they would around him and him alone. Despite being here for two months, he hadn't done much to investigate the NPC's, so perhaps now was a chance.

Momonga seemed to beam at him in delight. "Yes. So, go to your customisation menu, and select create NPC. When it says resources, type in Ains Ooal Gown, and use the code Nazarick to use our resources. You can create any NPC's you wish. The more stats and higher class equipment you use, the higher its overall level is. With the exception of Rubedo, the max level is usually 100. You might not be able to max an NPC out to level 100 since you are level 80, but you should still be able to level it up high enough. Once you rank up, you can create an even higher ranked NPC." Momonga kept talking passionately, and Sygil respectfully maintained his silence throughout the course of it.

When Momonga finally finished, he looked at Sygil, what he assumed anyways, expectantly. "So, go ahead and have a try."

Sygil faltered, however, as he remembered that he hadn't been able to access his character profile, or even create it technically. Just how was he supposed to create an NPC? Nay, scratch that, explain it to Momonga?

"I can't create an NPC. My build prevents me from creating NPCs. Developer decision, remember?" It was a lie, but it was also technically true to an extent. He sincerely doubted he could create an NPC based on the method Momonga described to him.

Momonga seemed somewhat sceptical. "That seems… a little off?"

 _Argh! Quick!_ "Because my build is considered powerful enough as it is, especially with my summons, one of the trade-offs is I can't build NPCs, only hire them."

After months of being exposed to gamers and gamer terminology, he could proudly admit that he could speak their language. Didn't make him feel less like an extra-terrestrial attempting to assimilate into a foreign society, but it was the best he could do.

Momonga hummed quietly. "I see. Perhaps I have something to help with that."

Sygil stared inquisitively at Momonga. "Uh, what could possibly work?"

Momonga merely just continued cryptically. "Come with me to the treasury. I think I have something."

"Okay?"

Sygil stood up and followed the Undead Liche to the throne room, meanwhile pondering what Momonga possibly could have or want.

* * *

Upon entering the throne room, he was greeted the exquisite and ornate architecture, and of course, the one NPC he swore was truly alive, if judging by the subtle glares always aimed at him whenever he was around her.

"We'll leave our rings with Albedo. The Treasury prevents us from accessing it otherwise." As Momonga handed his Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to Albedo, he suspected there was a story to what Momonga had said, but didn't ask or pry. He simply took his Ring of Ains Ooal Gown off and handed it Albedo. Oddly enough, he didn't receive the usual glare he always felt. Maybe because there was an actual player, Momonga, nearby this time. Though, that didn't stop her in the past.

Momonga opened a portal to the treasury and beckoned for him to enter first. Sygil was uncertain. While he was essentially hosted by Momonga and his guild for the past couple months, he still was wary for any signs of betrayal or attempts to trap and or kill him. Regardless, he stepped forth into the portal. _Hopefully this is just a nice thing._

He arrived in a large, spacious room with simple, yet elegant statues and surrounding ornaments. A simple leather couch and coffee table sat in the centre of the room, all illuminated by a central chandelier in the room.

Momonga followed him almost immediately out of the portal.

"Wait here. I will go to the treasury alone."

Sygil didn't get a chance to rebuke him, as Momonga had already vanished into another portal.

Looking around, he realised he was left alone in the room. Deciding there was nothing left to do but wait for Momonga's return, he took to looking at some the paintings hanging on the walls.

 _For a video game, they sure do go all out on the details of their little world._ Feeling the artwork was decent enough, he continued to carefully look at the paintings and statues. Even though everything was procedurally generated, it was still impressive to take in.

"I'm back." Sygil turned to face Momonga, whose portal was just closing behind him.

Sygil crossed his arms. "So? Did you find what you wanted?"

"Yes." Momonga produced a ring in his hands, holding it out for Sygil to take. Momonga explained as Sygil held the object up to examine.

"It's a Ring of Creation. Every guild gets five whenever one forms, allowing for players to bypass racial limitations when creating NPCs. It's mostly useless as for most races you can normally just access the same features in the console. However, the shitty devs like to make all things official, so they created essentially a trash item."

Sygil looked non-plussed and even hurt at that. "Wow. I'm worthy of trash items now, am I?"

Momonga waved his hands franticly. "No no, that's not at all what I – " Sygil's laugh cut him off. "I was jesting Momonga. I can clearly see the benefits of having a ring for someone like me. I appreciate this."

Momonga just laughed awkwardly. "It's no problem. You've been around long enough and are always on and willing to help. Its kinda the least I could do after this."

Sygil smiled an authentic and genuine smile of appreciation. "I truly do appreciate this Momonga. You have my gratitude."

"It has unlimited uses, however, it can be destroyed. Be careful and create wisely."

"Indeed I shall Momonga."

There was a momentary pause of silence before Momonga activated a portal to lead both of them back to the throne room.

As they stepped through and entered, Sygil began to question Momonga concerning the ring.

"So how is it specifically activated?"

"Um, like you activate the other rings?" Momonga was confused. All rings were activated the same way through a console shortcut command button.

_Sheesh, the way he speaks sometimes, it's as if he doesn't know how to access the console buttons and other commands at times._

Meanwhile, Sygil continued to examine the ring as Momonga began walking to sit on the throne itself. Well, sit was an understatement so much as it was a somewhat exhausted and dejected slump. Sygil figured maybe he was truly depressed over the absence of his friends. Albedo seemed to take a position by his side automatically, standing rigid save for the programmed breathing animation.

"Any adverse effects I should know before I use it?" While Sygil still remained cautious of everyone, even Momonga, he was slowly warming up to him, mostly because of him openly displaying his true emotions. Therefore, he was somewhat more willingly to give Momonga his trust. Still didn't mean it was unconditional or even complete; and he wanted to avoid adversely harming himself.

Momonga merely waved a hand dismissively. "None. You just can't create a character on the fly."

Sygil slowly nodded his head thoughtfully. "I see then."

Momonga suddenly perked up as if he remembered something. "Oh, by the way, I forgot. You can actually store your created characters in the ring for summoning. I forgot about that little feature. Kinda the only real use the ring would have. But it requires the ring to have created an NPC."

"Interesting to know, then."

"Anyway," dismissed Momonga. "Go try it out, see if it works and let me know, will you?"

Sygil bowed respectfully. "But of course, Guild-Master."

Sygil turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. His head turned slightly to the side for Momonga to see.

"Oh Momonga. Thanks. For everything. If you ever need me for anything, just let me know. I'm always there to help." And then he left via the very doors he entered.

As Momonga pondered over Sygil words quietly, Albedo's reaction was subtle. It was barely discernible unless one payed sufficient attention to detail, but her features, ever so subtly, softened at Sygil's proclamation.

* * *

His destination was the library, but first he had to get there. While it would have been simply easy to teleport, or at least according to players such as Momonga, he preferred to take his time and appreciate the scenery per se.

Standing outside of the throne room doors, he was greeted with the sight of various smaller statues, gold embroidery, paintings, ornaments and a red carpet that would lead to other parts of Nazarick's Ninth Floor. Honestly, it was impressive the amount of detail that went in to making the base seem so luscious and wealthy. It would even make some of his wealthier previous clients over the years jealous. The only solace they could potentially have would be that it is only a virtual world. It still didn't distract from the fact it still looked better, in his honest opinion.

Standing to his immediate right were several maids and a butler. They seemed to stand rigid and unwavering, silently guarding the entrance to the throne room. However, their eyes seemed to be subtly watching him. Or maybe it was the light.

He still had minimal interactions with the NPC's over his tenure, and he was still curious following the incident with the NPC Angel in the mines a couple of months ago.

 _Well, maybe here's an opportunity to test something?_ He quietly mused. Now was as good a time as any, so he approached the group of servants/defenders, stopping in front of the butler.

Sygil kept a tight and neutral face with his hands behind his back as he examined the butler first.

Sygil flicked his wrist disinterestedly in front of the butler, resulting in a character name and profile sheet appearing before Sygil.

Sygil quirked an eyebrow with mild interest. "Sebas Tian. The Head Butler of Nazarick, and the Head of the Pleiades."

 _The Pleiades? Is that a sub group within Ains Ooal Gown? A cooking club perhaps?_ He kept reading briefly.

"A strong martial artist who uses his fists eh, interesting. A dragonoid race member."

Sygil stood there, carefully musing what he had just red, before waving away the character profile sheet and name.

"I guess there is more to you than lets on, but I'll reserve judgement if I ever see you in action myself."

He gave Sebas a final once over look before moving on to the next NPC.

"Yuri Alpha. Vice-Captain of the Pleiades, and second-in-command to Sebas."

He spent a second looking into Yuri's eyes, curious for any reaction, before it dawned on him.

"Ah. I get it. The Pleiades are the famed Battle-maids I have heard about. The Pleiades, referring to the Seven sister star constellation. I'm assuming there are indeed seven of you, then?" A quick cursory glance, however, revealed there were only six.

"Hmm," hummed Sygil in disappointment. "Maybe I was wrong, or maybe the seventh is just elsewhere."

Sygil returned his attention back to Yuri.

"So. Yuri Alpha. You're the head of this bunch of, uh, _unique_ individuals." By unique, he was more-so referring to the random assortment of dress-wear and colours the maids were equipped with.

"Alpha refers to the first in command, and is the first letter of the Greek alphabet." Looking around, he spoke, addressing his seemingly non-receptive audience, hoping for a response, a reaction, anything elicited to indicate there was something more than just coding going on inside these seemingly procedurally generated characters.

"That means, by all likelihood, there should be someone with maybe a Beta in their name, right?" No response.

He stepped back from Yuri, before slowly and methodically walking down their ranks.

"I'm guessing, there is also a Gamma, Delta, Epsilon and a Zeta? And maybe our missing seventh member would be perhaps an Omega? The lone wolf of the pack. I think that covers the seven Pleiades. Or at least, I assume it does?"

He waited, hoping for a response, a voice. Alas, nothing came, and so his face somewhat fell, appearing disappointed.

"Hmmm. Oh well." _Back to reading their character profiles it is._

Walking back to the maid next to Yuri, a red-head with tanned skin, he opened up her profile.

"Ah. Here’s our beta. Lupusregina Beta. I do hope I am pronouncing that name correctly."

 _It appears that she is a more rowdy type NPC judging from this, and apparently quick to act._ He examined her build, scrutinising her for anything.

"A werewolf? Ah. Lupus for wolf, and regina for queen. Latin, perhaps?" He honestly wasn't too sure; he just made an educated assumption. "Not bad." Sygil nodded somewhat approvingly before closing down Lupusregina's profile.

There was still no response. Perhaps he was mistaken….

As his mind wandered to the possibilities, he reached out and grabbed one of Lupusregina’s braids with a gloved hand, holding it between a forefinger and thumb. He could feel the resistance of a physical tangible object in his hands. He could almost discern the individual strands of procedurally generated hair. And he could almost feel its silky touch, or rather, the way it smoothly glided between his leather-clad digits.

He eventually let the braid drop as he stared into the maid’s eyes.

“They say the eyes are the window to the soul. And right now, I have to wonder, do you really indeed possess one?”

As he stared into her eyes, trying to find any real life in them, he found himself becoming mesmerised. Even the eyes were flawless in their design, a testament to the artistic visuals and design of the game world. He found himself musing aloud.

“Quite beautiful.”

After a second, he realised he had spoken aloud, but despite this, there was still no reaction.

“The realism of this world can be astounding at times. Whoever designed you all seems to have taken their time to make each and every one as beautiful and flawless as possible. Almost, impossibly so?”

Still nothing.

“Even flattery fails? Are you that devoted? Or perhaps you can’t react?”

That was indeed a possibility. But if so, why? What was the key missing link? The Angel in his first raid spoke freely and acknowledged his existence. So why wouldn’t any of the other NPCs?

_Maybe…?_

There was _one_ key differences between their interactions. And it related to their direct relationship with him.

He turned to the next maid, with stark raven-coloured hair. The NPC was just as devoid of sentience it seemed as the other NPCs.

_Time to put it to the test…._

Before anyone could process what happened, Sygil summoned his sabre and brought it in for a rapid upper-cut; a lethal strike surely guaranteed to decapitate the black-haired maid standing before him. At the last possible second, however, he suddenly redirected his strike to just miss her exposed throat, the blade soaring up into the air with a faint whistle of steel.

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinising Lupusregina and the other maids and Sebas for any reaction. Alas, there was none.

After several seconds of analysing with no elicited response, he stood straight again, vanishing his sabre.

“Perhaps I was mistaken. If so, I am disappointed, and even saddened. There truly is no-one to talk to in this place and keep me sane.” The last part wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, rather a voiced aloud regret.

He didn’t even spare a backwards glance at the maids as he strod off towards the Great Library, slightly peeved at his lack of results, both with the NPCs and his current predicament.

As a result, he didn’t get to notice the slight postural changes all of the maids and Sebas exhibited, nor did he observe the slight uneasy glances that they began to cast each-other.

_Maybe I am going insane, talking to AI like they're alive._

* * *

The library was exactly like the last time he was there. Endless rows of books. While many were incapable of being read, being purely cosmetic in nature, there were also many that were packed with hundreds of pages worth of detailed lore, written by both the developers and the greater community over the many years. It was in those very tomes that Sygil had dedicated much of his spare time to reading.

What he was specifically looking for wasn't a clear-cut answer, but rather something to give him an idea on how to address his injury. The tomes were ultimately based on skewed, fantasised and altered depictions of actual religion and 'magic', for a better word. Oh how he loathed that word. But, he would have to bear with it. For now.

Many of the books were based on different monster designs created by the developers, and those monsters were in turn often inspired by actual mythology, though it wasn't uncommon to see many actual independently creative creatures and stories. And that was what was ultimately taking the majority of his time.

The past couple of months had been spent on organising his research, sifting through nearly each and every single page of each book, looking for any potential ideas, suggestions, or even statements, that might help. While he didn't expect complete accuracy, much of what was provided was based on actual mythology. This was in turn, to an extent, based on how the actual Overworld of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory operated. Except, the knowledge was from a mortal person's interpretation and perspective. And even then, much of the actual useful information appeared misconstrued, reinterpreted and rewritten for purely a fantasy game. It was painstaking, but he was in fact making progress, albeit painstakingly.

He had just about finished organising all the books into what were useful, and what weren't. He also had a pile of books that he had actually started reading through that pertained to actual holy and unholy elemental laws, albeit again rewritten for a game perspective. But, they were a good start and source of ideas.

At the rate he was going, he predicted, he had approximately a month's worth of further research from all of the tomes, including organising the last unsorted books. Honestly, he was initially surprised at the level of detail and dedication both the community and developers had to create each and every one of these books. Though, after further reading, it was apparent that most of the books were actually simply online Wikipedia pages and other online textbooks and research journals concerning anything and everything, from military history to pop-culture, to how to manage a business to… some rather explicit texts, all copied and pasted into each of the books. And concerning the size of the library, it wouldn't have surprised him if nearly every single article ever published was contained.

 _Someone must have been either really bored, or really dedicated._ It both pleased and horrified him how daunting his task was really going to be.

 _At least the game will be active for a long time, granting me plenty of time to research everything_. Honestly, the last thing he needed at this stage was for the game to crash and or shut down on him.

 _Fat chance that will happen. Too much money._ It also helped that he was not required to do as many quests or mercenary work for Momonga. While he didn't mind doing the work, it detracted from his real goal. A goal he refused to share with Momonga or any of the other guild-members, only saying he was just dedicated to understanding the lore of the game. It was technically a half-truth at best?

Walking down the aisles, he was greeted with familiar sight of his secluded research bench in a darker corner. The table was well-kept and clean, but covered with large and small stacks of various books. Further stacks were on the floor, but he at least attempted to keep the area somewhat organised and respectable.

Sitting down at the barely illuminated bench, he let out an audible sigh.

"This is getting tiresome." He honestly didn't feel like reading the next book. If only he had someone to discretely work with him that could properly understand what he wanted and why.

 _Actually..._ He had a Eureka moment!

Carefully grabbing the ring that Momonga gave him, he had an idea that might work if he figured out how.

"I just need to figure out how to create an NPC."

He remembered Momonga's words that he just needed to activate the ring similarly to how he would use the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown.

_The Ring of Ains Ooal Gown! For fuck's sake I forgot to grab it from Albedo. Argh. Next time I'm up there, I'll get it from her._

Relegating that problem for later on, he placed the ring from Momonga on his right index finger. Concentrating hard, he tried to activate it. Surprisingly, it worked, and he was greeted with a console menu that he could manually interact with and manipulate.

 _Okay. Easy progress. For once._ He thought sarcastically.

_So. What do I want to create? Someone independent, but capable of following orders flawlessly. Good organisational skills and memory. But what should I build him as?_

He had the option of selecting several races, alongside a starting template and gender for each one.

Picturing a rough idea of what he wanted, he started playing around with the settings, moulding his character to what he wanted. Using the resources of Nazarick that Momonga had so generously donated to him, he was able to spend several hours of the, he assumed, night toiling away at his NPC. Much of this time was spent maximising the stats and levels of the NPC, and more than once, he screwed something up and had to start from scratch. The game seemed to be finicky when he interacted with it.

After hours of manipulation he finally finished creating his first NPC. For a first attempt, it wasn't overly bad.

"Now to add some further background information." This was mostly for cosmetic reasons, but he figured he might as well do something easy for a change. Redundant and wasteful? Possibly. But he could care less right now.

After writing a brief description describing the NPC's purpose, he decided to incorporate many of the various non-fiction textbooks concerning military leadership, organisational skills and rostering of staff and personnel, military history, finances and economics, sciences and mathematics, and just about anything he could find.

He hoped that perhaps it was the additional coding that contributed to intellect and ability for the NPCs to communicate. It was just an idea however.

 _I'm getting crazy with my age…. Thinking simple computer AI can communicate with me._ However, the evidence had been presented before him in the past. What harm was there in trying to solve an unrelated mystery on the side?

He didn't exactly read through what texts were there, but he glimpsed at some of the titles absent-mindedly.

 _The art of war; Sun Tzu, The Path to Lebensraum_ and _Krieg und Krieger_ were to name but a few.

He had finished his first NPC. Now he just needed to click create in the menu. And so he did just that.

The NPC transitioned from his menu screen to a life-sized character directly in front of him. A character profile sheet and name was automatically displayed above the character, and following a quick cursory glance, everything seemed to correspond with what he had just written and created.

"Maxmillian. A level 95 NPC with superior leadership and military organisational skills. Race is human male, approximately aged 35 years."

He had attempted to maximise all of the character stats when creating Maxmillian, but due to his own rank, he was fortunate to be able to push the NPC to level 95.

Maxmillian was dressed in a grey military dress uniform reminiscent of a modern Earth military. It was actually a template provided by the ring for the Human Race build, though he did modify it a bit.

Gold embroidered epaulettes were displayed on both of his shoulders, with golden stars signifying his rank as a four-star general equivalent. A golden eagle bearing a sword and arrow in each talon respectively was 'stitched' on to the collar of his uniform, alongside further gold trimming alongside the edges. The same golden eagle was also stitched above his buttoned left breast pocket. The long-sleeved dress coat, which was a heavy-duty and reinforced but lightweight material, extended to nearly half-way below his knees, ending just where his black dress-boots began. The boots were also reinforced, and as polished as he could make them.

A black belt wrapped around his waist, housing a leather holster for a handgun, which was currently non-existent due to the in-game gun limitations preventing guns to be created. So he modified Maxmillian's uniform further to house an officer's sabre, complete in an ornate sheath. The sabre had a hand-guard to protect him, but the odds of him seeing actual combat were unlikely. Still, it did at least look nice. And he did add several texts on sword-fighting and gun usage, as well as some CQC tactics. Perhaps he was getting bored to be adding that much detail, but time was on his side.

Maxmillian wore a pair of black leather gloves, and an officers peaked-cap adorned his head, the colour scheme matching his uniform. The peaked-cap had gold embroidery on the edges of the visor, with the same golden eagle adorning the material peak of the cap. A gold aiguillette draped from his right breast and shoulder, and a thin leather cross-belt went under the same right epaulette diagonally to his pistol holster on his left hip, attaching directly to the belt.

Maxmillian's facial features were sharp but clean. He was clean-shaven, with short, cleanly cut brown hair and blue eyes. He didn't want blonde hair and blue eyes. The last thing he wanted to see on a constant basis was a physical reminder of Asphaestus. He ultimately appeared to be cold and calculating, which while not necessarily the intended look that Sygil was aiming for, he wasn't complaining.

Perhaps he overdid it and spent way too much time in creating Maxmillian than was truly warranted, but it was, he daresay, fun for a change.

 _At least I can find him in a jiffy if he gets lost amongst all these other NPC's._ That was a lot of the reasoning for his choice of style for his NPC creation, after being exposed to all the other players and NPC's dress styles. So far, none had a dress style at all similar to his NPC's military uniform.

"So," he clapped his hands together somewhat expectantly. "Let's see if you can follow instructions, and prove my theory correct." After that incident in the mines with the seemingly sentient enemy NPC, Sygil suspected there was more at play going on. And he wanted to find out what it was, even if his previous attempts failed. But first? Can his new NPC actually help him sort out the books?

"Maxmillian," he started, only to falter as he had literally no clue as to what specific commands would work. _Well. It's technically an NPC, and if it's anything like that angel bastard a couple months ago, a simple conversation to initiate some orders ought to do the trick._

"Maxmillian. Pick up a book concerning 10th Tier elemental holy magic." And now, he waited, watching anxiously with somewhat bated breath, anticipating what potential response the new NPC might have. He had two books concerning elemental holy magic, one was concerning 10th tier holy magic only, the other was just concerning a generalised review of holy magic Tiers 1 through 6. He was hoping Maxmillian would be able to critically analyse his order and, through logical reasoning and deduction, choose the appropriate textbook, or at least give some form of a response to let him know, well, anything.

No sooner had the order left his mouth, Maxmillian responded.

"Of course, Mein Fuhrer." _He did it?!_ Sygil managed to maintain a stoic image externally, but internally he was starting to become excited. Maxmillian was not only responding back (he had yet to determine if it was an automated response to a command, or if it was a sign of an actual sentient response to his command) he was also walking over to the table where the two possible books were, and actually flipping through the pages and reading the title to determine which book was appropriate.

_This is good! Not only is he capable of speech, and following orders, but he's also logically and critically analysing the books to see if – wait? Did he just call me Mein Fuhrer?!_

"Maxmillian? What did you just call me?"

Maxmillian just casually turned around to face his creator while walking back with the desired book he was ordered to collect, titled _10th Tier Holy Elemental Magic._ "Mein Fuhrer. Is that not what you are?"

Sygil felt conflicted. _I am your leader, but Mein Fuhrer is not exactly what I want to be called as. Oooh boy. Where do we begin._

"While I am your creator and therefore your sole leader, I would rather not be referred to as a _Mein Fuhrer_." He made extra emphasis to stress the two German synonymous words.

"Consider that one your primary directive for now." _Guess we dodged some potential issues there if Momonga ever saw this guy. I wonder if he would ever be embarrassed by a creation such as this?_

"Does that mean it replaces our other primary directive?"

_What?_

Sygil looked at Maxmillian confused. "What other primary directive?"

"To exterminate the Jews, Gypsies and other ethnic undesirables, thus restoring human purity and therefore human superiority against the other filthy non-human races?"

"…."

Sygil couldn't help but look at Maxmillian with nothing short of absolute shock.

 _Holy sweet lord!_ _What the fuck sort of response is that?!_

"Um, Maxmillian, I don't think that is quite correct for your primary directive."

Maxmillian cocked his head in slight confusion?

"Is it our method of achieving ethnic and racial purity? I can revise it to ensure it meets approved standards along the lines of the United Nations and United States government if you wish. Geneva has long since been made irrelevant, so more discrete and targeted methods can be utilised to help benefit your goals without the immediate scrutiny of such weak power structures. We can also begin amassing an army to remove any and all threats, solidifying your rule to the fullest legitimate extent."

_Ohhhhhhhhhhhh fuck. I fucked something up big time here. Why the fuck is he like this!_

"No, Maxmillian. Your only primary objective is to do as I say. And I say we don't have racially targeted mass genocide."

He was met with silence. _Good. Maybe he understands?_

"I see. Would you prefer a more discrete and long-term liquidation so as not to arouse suspicions?"

 _Fuck!_ He couldn't help but facepalm.

"No! No genocide! No killings! No nothing but organising the books I want you to organise for now!"

"Of course Mein Fuhrer."

"I just said don't call me that!"

"Of course, sir."

"I – fucking whatever! Just start looking through the books in this pile to make sure I haven't missed anything. Okay?" He gestured to several stacks of books on the floor that he had previously gone through. This was more-so a test to make sure Maxmillian could identify what he wanted him to.

"And what exactly am I looking for?"

"Anything pertaining to holy, unholy and elemental related magic, spells, manifestations and the like. Basically anything that could prove valuable in helping to reverse a holy infection."

"I see. Why do you need to know about this? Your stats should make you immune to such attacks?"

"I see you're also a smartass. Just do it for now. And only that pile of books. Can you do that?"

Maxmillian bowed respectfully. "Of course, sir."

Sygil wiped his face in slight frustration. _What the fuck have I done wrong? Wait! I managed to have an actual conversation with an NPC. That means he has some sentience! So why didn't the Pleiades or any of the other NPCs respond to me? Arghh! Fuck, this shit is really getting on my nerves!_

He watched Maxmillian dutifully start sorting through and reading the books in the designated pile.

_Good. It should take him the day to get through that, and there should be nothing of value in there. If that's the case, then I can order him to start sorting through the other books while I start reading through these other materials._

Just as he was starting to calm down and think he was making progress, he received an incoming message from none other than Momonga.

_Momonga: Hey Sygil. It's been a day already and, I know you might be busy, but are you free right now?_

Sygil widened his eyes in surprise. _A day has already gone by?!_

_Sygil: Sure. I can be there shortly. Whereabouts?_

_Momonga: Meet me on the Sixth Floor. I'll be in the coliseum._

_Sygil: Okay. See you there._

He could feel Momonga end the call, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Albeit, very conflicted thoughts.

_I just hope Maxmillian’s world views don’t become a problem for me. Why does he have to have a hard on for racial genocide? And why do I have to be the one to deal with it._

Ultimately, at this stage he was uncertain on how he would go about resolving _that_ issue. Realisitically, however, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal once he his research. Once his primary goal was achieved, he was going to hightail it out of Yggdrasil and hunt down Asphaestus.

_And then I’m going to kill that bastard. One step at a time, though._

First thing right now was he needed to head to the sixth floor and meet with Momonga, and while he hated having to teleport, he didn't like leaving clients waiting. It was poor business practice after all.

 _Guess teleportation is the go to today. I just need to use my ring of Ains Ooal….._ It suddenly dawned on him again.

_For fucks sake._

Shaking his head in frustration, he resigned himself to walking.

_What's quicker to get to? 6th floor or Throne room? Though, Albedo has my ring and she might not be there. Argh, and it wouldn't look good for me to ask Momonga for help getting it back considering he gave it to me in good faith. Guess I'll have to get it from Albedo later._

Resigning himself to his tedious fate, he began the long walk.

Ultimately, it took no longer than 15 minutes to get there, but it was still far too long for his tastes.

 _Never a good idea to leave a client waiting._ He reprimanded himself for his tardiness.

Upon entering the coliseum, he was greeted with two small figures in white clothing standing next to Momonga. A large tree stood behind them, and all around, white marble or stone pillars lay scattered about. The night sky was visible, but since it was a virtual reality, it was hardly accurate. That didn’t make it any less mesmerising however.

Momonga turned to face him as he entered.

"Ah, great! You made it! Was kinda wondering where you were for a minute."

"Yeah small inconvenience is all. I apologise for my tardiness." Sygil gritted through his teeth, trying to move on beyond the subject of his late arrival.

"All good, all good. I'm glad you could make it. It's been a whole day, and I was wondering what it was you made?" Momonga's question was innocent enough, but it reminded him of the absolute clusterfuck of a character he had created. And how was he going to explain that to Momonga?

Momonga seemed to notice his hesitation. "Are you okay? Get enough sleep last night?"

"Oh yeah, plenty.” Sygil was ashamed to admit that the lie came as easily as breathing. However, it wasn’t of any detriment to his overall contract, nor his interactions, so perhaps he could forgive himself for such tardy behaviour.

Momonga seemed to hesitate. "You're sure? You're always on, it's kinda like you live on this server now that I think about," the guild-master tried to alleviate some of the tension by laughing at his own observation.

 _Oh if only you knew how true that was Momonga_. Sygil internally grimaced.

Sygil tried to lightly chuckle before moving the conversation forwards. Not that he wanted to be rude, but the more time he spent finalising his research, the sooner he could be out of here.

"So, what did you want me for Momonga?"

Momonga's laughter died down, and there was a pause before he spoke.

"I just wanted to spend some time together, ya-know, because the end is coming. So how is your NPC coming along?"

 _The end is coming? What?_ Sygil decided to responded to the NPC question first; he could ask about the 'supposed end' in a minute.

_Better to get rid of this can of worms._

"Yeah, it's coming along. Still have got some tweaking to do." _Understatement of the century. How the fuck are meant to erase neo-nazi ideology from someone with the push of a button?_

"Yeah? What sort of tweaking? Maybe I can help? Summon your NPC and I can try tweaking it?"

“Eh, no need to worry about it. I’ll get it sorted I suppose. Though… do you perhaps know of any ways you can alter an NPCs personality outside of the profile sheet?”

“Um, not really? I’d just alter the profile sheet.”

"….." He felt so dumb for expecting anything useful to make his life easier, but at the same time, he also felt Momonga was dumb. _What did I just literally ask?!_

"Nvermind…." It was best to probably move on and ignore his response, lest his pent up frustration mount any more.

_Best to move on_.

Now to tackle the next question. The one that seemed to be bothering Momonga.

"So. What do you mean by the end of the world?" He could already feel himself regretting to ask this, preparing for some drawn-out personal story. While Momonga had somewhat grown on him due to his more friendly demeanour, he preferred to keep himself professionally distanced where possible. But, perhaps he could hear Momonga out for something (hopefully) small and trivial. It was that or return to the disaster that was his NPC. He supposed he could do this one thing for Momonga.

However, Momonga seemed to act genuinely confused at Sygil's question.

"What do you mean? When the servers close in a week's time."

At that moment, Sygil could feel his blood drain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo.  
> So, I once again apologise for my tardiness. However, I've been moving houses lately, and conducting renovations, so that unfortunately eats into my time. And once I got some time to work on this story, instead of just simply typing away and uploading on schedule, I had to deal with a virus. 62 different adware, PUPs, Trojan's and fucking whatever some of the other shit was. Like, wtf?! At least this explains why my computer has been dog-slow the last little while. Anyways, I've quarantined everything I could, and deleted most of the files and folders contaminated/corrupted, but I've left the registry keys/values alone for now until I can properly decide what is safe to delete and what can be restored or repaired, if at all. I'm no tech guru, but I know one thing. Don't fuck with the registry! I'll have to deal with it later, but this was kinda necessary for me to deal with immediately, so yeah, really sorry for the late update.  
> I'll be uploading the next rewritten chapter tomorrow, both to make up for this delay, and also because I need to kinda move it along with the updates if I wanna meet my Xmas deadline.  
> Now, onto the chapter itself.  
> It was mostly line tweaks, dialogue fixes (in Lord Vader: I have altered the dialogue, pray I do no alter it any further) I know, bad joke.  
>  I also amended Sygil's interaction with the Pleiades, as well as patched some of the ending dialogue.  
> Next chapter will be out in 24 hours time, and then we are on the home stretch of the rewrite! Yay!  
> Anyways, again, a million times sorry for the delay, but I kinda need my laptop intact in order to write this story lol.


	7. Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

**Sorrow**

Deep in the 9th Floor of Nazarick, seated around one of the tables in an elaborate dining room, complete with ornate chandeliers, chairs, sculptures, dining tables and associated ornate cutlery, sat six maids dressed in an assortment of maid outfits and colours.

Currently, they sat about with an assortment of finely prepared foods, ranging from sweet cakes, muffins and biscuits, to dazzling golden-coloured meats, fruits and vegetables. A range of drinks, collected in delicate teacups lay specifically placed to each maid, who each were currently consuming, rather delicately and properly (they were the finest maids of all of Nazarick, it would be unbefitting otherwise), the assortment of food and drinks.

They were currently on a 'tea-break' of sorts. Since they were considered the last line of defence for the Supreme Beings in the glorious Throne Room, they had ample warning time to prepare if need be. As such, as part of their automated routine, as dictated by the Supreme Beings, was to allow themselves some time to recollect. They didn't know why they were so generously granted this choice, but it was the will of the supreme beings, and their will was absolute.

As they currently enjoyed their temporary break before being reassigned to the Throne Room and associated hallways for defence and patrol, they allowed themselves to slip into conversation. They could afford to do so because no other players, or even the Supreme Beings were nearby.

For some reason, the sheer power and will of the Supreme Beings was enough to prevent them speaking out of turn, rendering them to follow and recite only the assigned commands they were permitted to use. It was breathtaking, their power. All of the Supreme Beings emitted this aura. All, except for one. One Sygil Amadeus, and currently he was the source of their current discussion.

"Oooooh! Did you hear Sygil-sama! He called me beautiful~su! Such a way to a lady's heart." Currently Lupusregina was recalling their unexpected meeting with Sygil in the hallway.

Yuri straightened her glasses, before gently reprimanding Lupusregina. "Do not speak with food in your mouth. It is unbecoming of a Pleiades Battle-maid for the Supreme Beings."

"Yes Yuri-nee!"

Narberal tuned out Lupuregina as she addressed Yuri.

"So Yuri-sama? What do you think about last night?" There was a lot of general curiosity and even some confusion as to what happened last night with Sygil in the hallway. It was common knowledge that Sygil was indeed a mysterious Supreme Being, radiating the aura of both a _Player_ **and** an _En-Pee-See_ , as the other Supreme Beings would refer to them as. However, he also felt different from those two aforementioned groups.

Yuri looked somewhat uncertain.

"I am unsure. The way he spoke to us. And how he addressed us is… quite different from how the other Supreme Beings talk to us?"

They all nodded in agreement. Sygil spoke to them a lot more directly, as if he knew they could speak, but refused to. In one way, it made them feel somewhat ashamed that they couldn't fulfil one of the orders coming directly from a Supreme Being.

And that was the other thing. While there was initial scepticism and distrust generated towards Sygil when he was first introduced, and worse still when he became a Supreme Being for Ains Ooal Gown, over the months of exposure to him and secretly observing him and to an extent his interactions with the other Supreme Beings, namely Guild-Master Momonga, a lot of the tension eased away.

Sygil never stole anything or made obvious attempts to sabotage the Supreme Being's efforts, instead offering his services willingly and completely whenever asked. He always completed said duties efficiently and in a timely manner. Afterwards, he would always retire directly to the Great Library to read through many of the sacred Tomes kept there. He made sure to never damage or misplace said books, though the Librarian present helped with that to an extent. And recently, an announcement from Guardian Overseer Albedo assured everybody of his intentions to offer his unconditional help to Momonga fulfil his goals. Such a proclamation of devout loyalty was seen as very wise and respectful, and that ultimately boosted Sygil's popularity to almost be on par with the other Supreme Beings. And unlike the other Supreme Beings, he seldom ever left the world of Yggdrasil, even at night or for Supreme Being tasks outside of their world.

It was well-known that one of the requirements for a Supreme Being to become a member of Ains Ooal Gown was, other than absolute loyalty, to hold a " _job_ " as the other Supreme Beings would put it.

From what the Guardian Overseer Albedo had overheard, apparently Sygil had originally held a 'job' that commanded a lot of respect from even the Supreme Beings.

While most of Nazarick's residents didn't understand too much of what was meant, the Floor Guardians were smart enough to see that Sygil was actually under contract to serve the Supreme Beings because of his skillset. In exchange, the Supreme Beings provided for him. Regardless, it was a beneficial relationship, and Nazarick was slowly _starting_ to come to see Sygil as one of their own, even if he didn't know it.

“He speaks to us differently from the Supreme Beings because he is different them,” replied CZ-Delta in a monotone voice.

“Well of course he is. No-one is like the Supreme Beings, and he was only granted the authority by them,” shrugged Narberal indifferently.

“No. I mean his racial and biological composition.”

“Eh?” Everyone turned to face CZ now, clearly interested.

“What do you exactly mean, CZ?” Entoma leaned forward.

“Sygil Amadeus lacks an racial traits and characteristics of any known race or class. While his physical traits are indicative of being human, I am incapable of actually determining his specific Heteromorph class.”

“Eh? But Sygil-sama isn’t human though, right?” Lupusregina looked frantically at her big sister Yuri for reassurance.

“Preposterous. Only Heteromorphs are permitted membership to the guild.” Solution was quick to interject.

Yuri raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s not forget our dear sister Omega, Solution.”

“Yes, but she was created by the Supreme Beings,” reminded Narberal.

“I doubt he is human, either,” interjected CZ.

“Like many of us, he physically resembles a human, but only to hide his true racial class. This is only a theory, however.”

“I don’t care what race he is, he acts nice to us, and respects the Supreme Beings.”

Everyone glanced at Entoma, and Yuri was about to speak, but Nerberal beat her.

“To you perhaps, but he nearly took my head off.”

“You simply had to respond to him,” chided Lupusregina cheekily.

Narberal’s eyes shot wide open as she cracked her neck towards her red-haired sister.

“You had every opportunity to speak, yet you didn’t,” she accused harshly.

Lupusregina waved her hands defensively.

“Hey, I couldn’t! Every time I tried, it was like there was some force holding me back.”

Yuri was quick to cut in before the conversation escalated further.

“Do not fight with each-other, especially after all that has been granted for us by the Supreme Beings.”

Her stern tone seemed to halt the beginning dispute dead in its tracks, earning abashed looks from both sisters.

“Now,” began Yuri. “I have to agree it is also clear that we ALL cannot freely speak with the Supreme Beings. This includes Sygil-sama, even though he is racially different from what you have mentioned,” she gestured to CZ, who stiffly nodded in affirmation.

“Regardless, he is recognised as a Supreme Being, and so far has done nothing untoward.”

Her gaze slowly circled the room, locking eyes with each of her sisters present.

“I will speak to Sebas concerning Sygil-sama. He might be able to give some valuable insight, or if not, perhaps even the Guardian Overseer. In the meantime, continue your duties as you normally would. Until then, allow us to enjoy this meal granted by the will of the Supreme Beings."

* * *

Sygil could feel the blood drain from his face. However, he maintained an expertly calm visage. Now was not the time to panic or overreact.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I follow. What do you mean when the server's close?" There had to be a mistake. He couldn't afford the servers to close now and shut the game down.

"Yggdrasil is shutting down in a week. They announced it over a month ago. It was all over the forums."

Well that explained everything. He didn't access the online forums, either for lack of care, or just an inability to. Honestly, some of the game features were touch and go, while others were quite finicky and refused to work for him. He just attributed it to the fact his soul was inside the neural network for the virtual reality, and therefore accessibility and interactivity was limited.

However, the news of Yggdrasil shutting down was still new to him. He hadn't heard anything about it.

_Though, it does explain why Momonga is acting a bit more depressed than usual these days. He treats this game as his sole lifeline, and after so many years of investment, for it to come crashing down all around him because of the actions of others, it must be a hard blow to accept._

However, Momonga wasn't finished there yet.

"How can you remain oblivious to that?! You practically live on this game," Sygil internally winced at how true his words were, unknowingly.

"I don't access the forums a lot. You know that."

"You don't do much in the game at all, actually! You're not acting like you even care, despite how much time you put in!"

_This game means much more to me than you could possibly realise._

Momonga wasn't finished with his rant yet, however.

"You just spend most of your time in the library! What could be so important that you would waste your time there! You could be a level 100 player by now, but you aren't! It's like you don't even care at all!"

By now Momonga was beginning to become emotional, and all the loneliness and feelings of abandonment by his friends seemed to be catching up.

"Momonga," Sygil tried to reason. "It's not that. It's just those books…." He trailed off. How was he supposed to explain his reasoning for spending hours at a time soaked inside a virtual library, looking up fantasy-based knowledge? At best he would come off as selfish, at worst he would come off as insane.

Momonga, however, took Sygil's lack of answer as an admission of guilt.

"What will it take for you to enjoy the game as it's meant to be played! It seems that library is making it harder for you to even socialise with your friends. With me!"

By now, Momonga was full-stream into his rant.

"Look, Momonga, you're just distressed because the game is shutting down. This isn't you. You're the guild-master, you are meant to be stronger than this!"

He wanted to implore to Momonga to better control himself and calm down without actually telling him to directly calm down. _Better to give a hint and let someone think it was their own idea than force it on them._

And it seemed to somewhat work. Momonga seemed to pause and reflect on his comments, before finally speaking again.

"I…. I'm sorry, Sygil. It's just everyone seems to have abandoned the game, and you and I are the only ones that seem to log on frequently, or in this case," he gestured to the empty Coliseum, but was likely referencing his whole base or even the server, "at all."

Sygil chose to ignore the undead's comments. They were just the emotional speak of a distressed person. Not necessarily something to pay attention to.

"Fair enough, but how about, instead of moping about, we actually do something more productive." Sygil hoped Momonga would take the bait. _Just agree, and then we can go our separate ways and work on our own things. I really need to finish this research badly if all I have left is a week. Fuck, I need a MONTH!_

"You're right. How about we actually do something together?"

 _Not really._ Sygil gritted internally.

However, looking at Momonga, and contemplating the fact that the NPC's seemed to possess a form of self-awareness, it was probably best not to antagonise a whole army of loyal NPC's by making the guild-master upset.

"Sure, Momonga…." Then again, maybe he did need to catch a little breather for now. Maxmillian was busy working on his behalf, so it should be fine if he was away for a little bit.

"Great! How about some questions about ourselves?" Momonga seemed eager to move on. Desperate even.

"I guess. Nothing too personal though. I have the right to refuse certain questions."

"Momonga waved him off nonchalantly. "Of course! It's not like Peroroncino or Ulbert who are asking anyways, so you shouldn't need to worry."

"I guess then. Before we do, do you have anywhere to sit perhaps?"

Momonga hummed for a second. "Yes, let's head back to the throne room."

He no sooner finished speaking when he simply waved his hand and the ring of Ains Ooal Gown was activated, creating a portal for him to enter.

Sygil wasted no time following him through the portal. He didn't need to explain why he was taking forever to walk, he could just collect the ring back from Albedo after the discussion. Simple as.

* * *

They both stepped through the portal, entering in the throne room. As the portal closed, Momonga turned to face Sygil inquisitively.

"Why didn't you use your own ring?"

Sygil shrugged him off. "It's easier to just use the one."

"I guess?" Momonga didn't ponder any further on it, which Sygil was secretly grateful for.

As Sygil looked around, taking in the massive scale of the throne room, Momonga strode forth to take his seat on the throne. Oddly enough, Albedo was nowhere to be seen.

 _I always thought she stayed in the throne room?_ Sygil was curious as to where she had gone.

Momonga began to speak, however, interrupting Sygil's thoughts.

"So. Are you going to join Yggdrasil 2 when it's released?" Momonga was genuinely curious, but he was also hopeful.

Sygil, on the other-hand was doubtful.

"First off, I was unaware of there being an Yggdrasil 2. Plus, with my current life…" He trailed thoughtfully, before continuing resolutely.

"It depends. I'll try, but I make no guarantees." Momonga nodded slowly, seemingly accepting Sygil's decision.

"I see. I hope you do join though. It's nice, you know…. Having someone around on the server kinda livens it up a bit."

"We'll see…" Sygil nodded. Realistically, he had no intention to join, provided he could move fast enough to finish his research. _Though…. If it follows the same format as the first Yggdrasil, then perhaps I might use it as a nice holiday resort_. Only time would tell. And right now, time was slowly ticking by.

There was a brief silence before Momonga spoke up.

"Say Sygil, I was curious? Do you have any hobbies?"

Sygil felt like time had stopped. He tried to recall memories dating back decades ago, of any idea of what a hobby might pertain to.

He didn't really have hobbies; too busy trying to complete one contract or another and staying alive, or at least, keeping his body alive. Really, the only thing he could think of was possibly playing piano. It was something he had learnt as a child a long, long time ago. Before he became a servant of Lucifer.

Honestly, save for revelling in the blood of those that opposed him, it was the one thing he truly did enjoy, as it provided a semblance of sanity, of peace for him. Reminding him of simpler, safer times. And of his sister. His sister who he lost so long ago, but was the sole reason he sacrificed everything to become what he was. And now? It had been decades since those events, and he had nothing to show for it.

His sister long-dead, leaving him to desperately try and rekindle her soul so maybe, just maybe, he could beg for her forgiveness. For everything. But honestly, he even doubted at times if he would be granted that.

And risking death meant he would be more likely to lose the few precious memories and feelings he had for her.

All that he had left to remind him of the events that time were a cursed soul, with skills only for violence and death, and a memory of how to play a piano. Anything else had been irrelevant. And sometimes, even his ability to play a piano conjured up some strong memories. Or at least, the memories tried to be strong. Having displaced his soul from his body a couple times, the memories and feelings of her and his past life became weaker and weaker. He still had enough to remember and even cherish her, but if he died again, he feared what would happen.

Realising he had lost himself in his memories for a little longer than he should have, he responded to Momonga, albeit a little more abruptly than he should have.

"I sometimes played the piano." It was the one thing he guess he truly did enjoy and would consider to be a hobby.

"Really now? That's…. actually nice." Complimented Momonga.

"Thanks…"

Momonga seemed to pick up on his somewhat sour mood.

"You know, we actually do have a piano in the 9th Floor. My friends and I created a theatre room, purely because it looked nice. We even spent some cash in-game to get a piano put in. Don't know if the thing actually works, or if it's just cosmetic." Momonga seemed to smile behind his avatar face as he fondly recalled the memories he and his friends made.

"Maybe you should try it out. Before the server shuts. See if it works?"

Sygil absently nodded his head.

"I'll consider it. Maybe later."

"Sure Sygil," replied Momonga.

There was nothing but silence between the two, until finally, Sygil spoke up.

"What exactly inspired you to build all of this? To create the guild?" Sygil gestured to the surrounding pillars denoting and representing each founding member of Ains Ooal Gown.

Momonga chuckled. "Actually, I would credit Touch-Me for this one. He was sort of the one that got the ball rolling, originally our leader even."

Sygil raised an eyebrow in interest. "Really now? What's the story?"

Momonga leaned back in his throne, seeming genuinely happy that he was able to interact with a 'friend', though Sygil would stretch that term lightly. More like an acquaintance.

"Touch-Me was – is – the undisputed Champion, the Silver Paladin. He originally saved me from PKer's back in the day, before Ains Ooal Gown. He stuck around and helped me rank up to defend myself against other players, and soon, more like-minded players joined us. We wanted to just have some fun. Eventually we became Nines Ooal Gown, since there were nine of us."

Sygil listened with rapt attention, leaning forward and bridging his arms on the table.

"Eventually we conquered a dungeon on the first try, the very one we are in in-fact. We named our new home Nazarick, and over the years, more people joined our guild."

"You mentioned Touch-Me was originally the leader? What happened?" Sygil was genuinely curious.

Momonga sighed.

"Originally, yes. Yes he was. But unfortunately, differences between him and another member caused us to lose one of our members forever. Touch-Me was felt to be ultimately responsible. He resigned himself and I took the mantle."

Sygil nodded thoughtfully. "Is that why Ulbert and Touch-Me butt heads whenever they are on together?"

"You noticed? Yeah. Ulbert was originally friends with the player Touch-Me helped kick out, and it didn't wash over very well with him. The result was, well, you can see for yourself."

Momonga stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the throne.

"The resulting tension even caused some of our other members to visit less frequently. They felt it was becoming a little bit toxic. Of course, nothing devolved into anything worse than screaming matches, rants and raves. Most of that died down eventually, but, old wounds never heal fully it would seem."

Momonga seemed sad at his recount of events.

He continued.

"Even to this day, they still are mad at each other. They try to avoid each-other if they can. I just wish they would put it all aside."

Sygil made to say something, but Momonga continued before he could.

"No-one is really even mad at them for what happened back then. It's just heartbreaking to see your friends fight so much for so many years now. I'm amazed they even log on at times, doubly so when they are online together. Though, usually, they try not to."

"I guess we all have our struggles. If they are truly friends, then perhaps they will put aside their differences. Though, from what you are saying, I doubt it."

This was why he hated working with people. They let fickle emotions dictate to them how to behave, instead of letting their emotions help fuel their desire to achieve their goals. It was often pathetic. Not Ulbert and Touch-Me's dilemma per se. No, that was their own problem. But just people in general. He had witnessed people fall too many times due to letting their emotions control them.

Asphaestus, Vessie, the idiot knight he ran off a cliff several months ago, plus many more. Including himself. Sometimes he wondered if he truly had learned his lesson, or if he was still as susceptible to such a weakness. At least he tried to act with a level head.

"About that, actually. I was planning on inviting everyone to show up for the final hours of the game when it's time to shut-down. Sort-of a send-off party. Would you be able to join?"

"I can do that," Sygil agreed. He needed every second on here to scour as much information as possible anyways. Though, now that he thought about it, he needed not just more time, but more manpower to help with the research.

 _I need more NPC's like Maxmillian_. Though, upon further reflection of Maxmillian's rather, interesting tendencies thus far, he would need to be more careful when creating them.

_I still need to fix Maxmillian. I would rather not be reminded of his prime directive every other sentence. Jesus!_

"Was there anything else you needed me for, Momonga?"

"No. But, you'll have to play the piano for me. I would love to hear it!"

Sygil stood up and bowed at his current client. "We'll see. It's not exactly stipulated in the contract."

Momonga burst into a laugh, unawares of how serious Sygil actually was.

"I'll catch you around Momonga," called out Sygil as he walked back to the Throne Room door.

"You too Sygil!"

The doors shut, leaving Momonga all alone in the Throne Room, and thus, a somewhat dreary atmosphere returned to haunt him. All that could be heard was a quietly sobbing Momonga.

"This fucking sucks….."

* * *

As Sygil returned to the Great Library, he was greeted by the sight of Maxmillian finishing sorting through the books he had assigned him.

Surprisingly, not only had Maxmillian correctly sorted through the books, but he was nearly finished his task also.

"Maxmillian! I see you're nearly done."

Maxmillian turned to face Sygil, snapping upright into attention.

"Yes sir! The books are nearly done."

 _No issues so far. Good. Good!_ Sygil felt his mood starting to return.

"Though, it does trouble me sir."

Sygil looked Maxmillian in the eyes sharply.

"What does, Maxmillian?"

Maxmillian reached down to grab one of the books on the desk, before enthusiastically presenting it to him.

"This book, sir! Titled, _A novice's guide to better Sexual fulfilment_ , by the Supreme Being Lord Peroroncino."

_What?! I am already concerned where this is going._

Sygil tried to dismissively wave the book away.

"It's not quite what I am interested in anyways. It lacks any information worthwhile to helping me."

Maxmillian did not care, however.

"It's not your choice of sexual preferences that is problematic sir. Rather, the concerning factor is what Peroroncino has suggested for a holistic healing ritual. He appears to support the abominable sexual union between various ethnicities, thus propagating their miserable lives and breeding more of their scourge. He even dares to suggest other non-pure races and even certain demi-humans and heteromorphs can provide greater sexual fulfilment!"

Sygil facepalmed. _You have got to be fucking kidding me!_

"Maxmillian, the book was written by Peroroncino. Anything he writes, based on my experiences with the guy, is likely to be sacrilegious, period! The man's a sexual deviant. And out of everything in that book, you choose the most mundane thing to be offended by?!"

"It's not the sexual behaviour that is offensive. Rather, it's disturbing that he would dare suggest you can achieve a holistically healing sexual experience from undesirables of all people. It's abhorrent. Gypsies, Jews, Slavs, Romanians, Communists, Capitalists, Heteromorphs and Demi-humans, the whole lot. They. Aren't. People."

_Oh my fucking god._

"And where, pray tell, did you get these ideas from?"

"From you sir."

"Well thank you Captain Obvious! But _how_ exactly did you get these ideas? Because I know for a hundred percent certainty that they are not mine."

By now, Sygil was becoming agitated.

"I am unsure then, sir. All I know is you created me based on how you desired."

_Fucking great._

Sygil snatched the book from Maxmillian.

"Well I desire for you to stop your petty hatred of any and all ethnicities and people because you don't like their skin colour or their religion. It's unproductive and wasteful. All that truly matters is their performance, based on _merit_ alone!" Sygil placed extra emphasis on the word merit, hoping to stress the importance behind the word's meaning to Maxmillian.

_I can't believe I am actually having a debate with a computer generated A.I. And not even a day ago I was struggling to prove whether there was any sentience within._

There was a suspenseful pause as Maxmillian seemed to process his creator's command.

"So, according to what you and Peroroncino are saying, who performs the sexual act is of little consequence, only how satisfying it is?"

Sygil pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, muttering in frustration. "Of all things for you to contextualise it with, you choose that….."

Sygil looked back at Maxmillian. "Yes. Basically. Can you agree with that?"

"If it is your will, I can do my best, but ultimately I was created to hate all of the ethnic undesirables."

_Fuck it. I need to fix this now. I can't stand to hear this shit every time I ask him a question What did Momonga say, alter the character profile sheet?_

"Yeah, I need you to hold still for a minute," Sygil reached towards Maxmillian, flicking his left hand to open up his character profile to edit.

There was nothing in Maxmillians settings, stats-wise, that indicated a tendency for racism or hatred.

_Great. Now what. Do I just type, ‘don’t hate everyone?’ Like what the hell?!_

He really didn’t have the time to deal with this.

He could feel his patience wearing thin with each passing minute as he scrolled through Maxmillian’s creation history, including texts that were copy-pasted.

_I swear, if I don’t find something in the next minute…._

And then, he finally found something that caught his eye.

"Art of War, Guide to Military Rostering, Krieg und Krieger, The… wait what? Krieg und Krieger?"

_That sounds German. And he hates ethnic undesirables? Coincidence?_

After opening the text with caution, he was greeted with German text, and some… interesting imagery.

_Well then, I can't read this, but I'm sure that's Himmler and Hitler in full uniform. Maybe, we can just get rid of this text._

By now, he was questioning the sanity and stability of whoever actually ported the text over to Yggdrasil.

_All I need is to rely on the in-game stats, and his sentience to do what I need him to do. If I delete this text, it should be fine. And then I can have some fucking peace and quiet while I work without hearing this shit every three minutes._

After a minute of trying to delete the text, Sygil finally felt Maxmillian was hopefully 'cleansed' so as to speak. All he needed to do now was save his settings, and then it should be good as gold.

Pressing buttons in the virtual console always felt weird since he was technically a part of the game, but honestly, at this stage, he just wanted everything to be finished with. He had bigger fish to fry long-term.

And so, he saved Maxmillian's new, reduced profile.

_If this doesn't work, I'm burning this dark page in my history._

Maxmillian remained standing at attention, making no other movements or sound, purely waiting for a command.

"Okay, Maxmillian. I need you to sort this stack of books out," he said, gesturing to a stack sitting on an adjacent seat. "Search for anything relating to holy or unholy material, particularly anything pertaining to holy injuries and how to heal them. Let me know if you come across anything that might prove interesting."

"Of course, sir." Maxmillian proceeded to robotically sort through each book meticulously, while Sygil looked on with suspicion.

_Aaaaand I’ve broken him. FCUK! That sounded waaaay too automated compared to Maxmillian before…. Whatever. So long as he does his job, it will be all good. Now, I need to create one more helping hand to help move the process along._

He wanted to use the ring to create another NPC modelled after Maxmillian. Well, without the narcissistic traits anyways. Someone to help find the crucial details.

Having somewhat of a rough idea, he set about to using his ring to create the next NPC, this time taking only half the time it took to create Maxmillian, who remained silent and diligent in his work the whole time.

First, he needed someone more capable of discerning the smaller details of value, but also capable of identifying and organising for the big picture. Someone with good organisational skills, similar to Maxmillian, and capable of being diligent. And not being biased to anything.

He decided to create a similar model to Maxmillian, based on the same template, meaning they shared the same uniform. However, Sygil decided to alter the stats of the new NPC.

Sygil placed greater emphasis on dexterity, reconnaissance, patience and intelligence to maximise the effectiveness of the NPC. He also equipped the unique Skill Perk [Sharpshooter] for the NPC, allowing for greater accuracy. This would theoretically allow the new NPC to more accurately discern what was more valuable and what should be priority. In theory at least.

Furthermore, Sygil decided against adding material from the library into the NPC's profile this time. He didn't need another Maxmillian.

Upon maxing the stats out, he also found out, however, that the new NPC could only have a max rank of 92, and suffered more damage. Ultimately, however, it was of little concern, as he wasn't planning on waging a war with his NPC's. It wasn't realistic. Though, it did make him wonder.

_What will happen to the NPC's after the shutdown?_

Realistically, he didn't truly care. They were a means to an end. And he was going to exploit them. It was in his nature after all.

Upon creating the character, all he needed now was a name. Maybe he would humour Maxmillian by giving him a German counterpart.

"Hans. If ever there was a German name, I think I hit the money, what would you say Maxmillian?"

No response.

_Is he deaf?_

"Did you hear me Maxmillian?" Maxmillian, however, continued to ignore him, robotically sorting through the books.

_Oh well, it's of little consequence._

So he finalised saving Hans, watching as his newest creation metaphorically gained life. It was both an interesting and rewarding experience to witness the life one has created take its first, metaphorically speaking, breaths in the new wide world.

Of course, being a virtual world, the experience was less thrilling and filled with more mundane staring back into him.

"Well Hans, now that you are awake, your first task is to sort through the stack of books on the left here," he gestured to said assortment of currently unsorted books sitting adjacent from Maxmillian.

"Look for anything pertaining to holy or unholy materials, specifically how they can be used to help heal an unholy injury."

By this stage, Sygil was growing tired of repeating the same command, no matter how warranted.

Hans provided no verbal response, simply just walking to the designated pile and beginning his assigned work. It was, quite frankly, boring.

_No response, no nothing? Sheesh, it's like Hans and Maxmillian are acting like the Pleiades at this stage._

Looking at another stack of unsorted books, he steeled himself for another day of finalising book sorting. These were the last stacks, and then after that, all he needed to do was start actually reading and learning from the organised books.

 _Yep. All however many fucking hundreds or thousands there are._ Honestly, he felt overwhelmed. There were too many books to sort through, and not enough time. Half of the books likely only had small snippets of relevant or valuable information.

_Well, no time like the present._

And so, sitting down at the desk alongside the two monotonous NPC's, he committed himself to another lengthy session of studying. And with only several days left, the clock was ticking.

* * *

Another day had passed, and currently Lord Sygil was locked away in the Great Library, while Guild-Master Lord Momonga was currently away in his other godly world. Who knew what sort of places the Surpreme Beings left for.

While such thoughts used to leave Lupusregina excited and curious, awestruck even at the sheer power of their gods to traverse, it eventually made her sad, like all of the other denizens of Nazarick.

Why did their beloved Supreme Beings start abandoning them all? Had they failed? Were they not good enough? Was she not good enough for her creator? Of course, she would never dare think that! None of them would! The Supreme Being's must have a reason for their disappearance! It must be part of some grand plan! And she must grateful to be able to play a part in it. All of them were.

However, lately, she, and many more, had started to develop the same feelings of dread. That their very creators were never going to return.

"Lupusregina," Yuri's voice was strong and commanding, but also compassionate. The Vice-Captain always seemed to know what was troubling them, and how to speak to them accordingly so they were motivated enough. Of course they would work themselves to death itself without being told, for it was the will of the Supreme Beings that they were created, and thus were obligated to serve in any means necessary.

"Yes Yuri-nee?"

"I spoke to Sebas-san."

Lupusregina knew what the discussion likely pertained to and eagerly awaited what the results might be.

"Annnnnnnnnd."

Yuri ignored her childish impatience.

"Both Master Sebas and Overseer discussed and concurred that it is most likely a test by Sygil-sama to determine our resolve and ability to push beyond the Supreme Beings aura. To prove that we are capable of serving in any manner, regardless of the circumstances. Therefore, it has been decided that, in light of the circumstances, it is best if you, Solution and Entoma go attend to Lord Sygil in the Great Library."

"Eh? Really?!" Lupusregina was conflicted. On one hand she was excited because Sygil seemed to be the only Supreme Being that ever acknowledged the denizens of Nazarick as more than just servants. Even if it was subtle, everyone could tell he was more aware of them.

On the other hand, she was also somewhat nervous. She, like everyone, was well aware of the intense aura surrounding the Supreme Beings; that intense pressure that prevented anyone from speaking or acting outside of their prescribed prerogatives. It was so intense that not even the Floor Guardians could overcome or resist it. That was testament to how strong the Supreme Being's will was. And Lord Sygil was no exception.

"You will meet with your sisters outside the Throne Room, where you shall proceed to the Great Library to meet with Lord Sygil."

Lupusregina found herself nearly gulping at the ominous-appearing task.

"There, it is up to you three to declare your open fealty to the Supreme Beings before Lord Sygil. This is most likely his wish, and therefore we must obey it. This is a chance for us to potentially overcome their overwhelming presence to declare our fealty."

"Eh, Yuri-nee, while I am honoured, aren't you better suited for this task-su?" At this point, Lupusregina was beginning to feel somewhat nervous at the daunting task before her.

Yuri seemed to only subtly glare at Lupusregina in response, making her aptly stand more rigid and attentive.

"Lord Sygil specifically spent time to admire _you_ , therefore it has been decided that you are likely the best choice for him to perhaps open up to. The return of the Supreme Beings could very well depend on all of our abilitiy to openly overcome this aura and swear our fealty. Our success rests on you, sister."

Now Lupusregina was beginning to feel faint. This was too much to handle.

Anyone would kill for an opportunity to be with the Supreme Beings like this, especially when one openly displayed such kindness. However, the enormity of the task before her was too large, nearly impossible. However, if it was the will of a Supreme Being, then she was obligated to comply.

* * *

Sygil had spent all night reading through the books while Hans and Maxmillian had continued sorting through the books he wanted. He was slowly able to piece a rough idea of what he could use to maybe understand his holy infection more. However, he still lacked some of the information required. But, he was making progress, and that was all that mattered.

However, all the nights of constant reading had been exhausting. While he didn't need sleep or other biological and mortal necessities to survive such as food and water, though they did help keep his body in peak condition, he could still suffer from mental exhaustion. It just took much longer to affect him.

Standing up, he sighed and looked around him. Books as far as the eye could see.

By instinct alone, he figured Momonga would likely be logging on soon. It seemed to be about the right time for the Guild-Master to log on based on his past routine over the months. However, that also meant Momonga would likely want to see him again.

 _Might as well beat him to the punch. I need to grab my ring back from Albedo to save me some walking time anyways._ And with that, he decided to head towards the Throne Room; Albedo's preferred residence.

_Hopefully she's there this time._

Closing the doors to the library as he left, he was greeted with the same marvellous hallway that connected throughout the entirety of the 9th Floor, eventually leading to the Throne Room.

Beginning his walk, he trusted his two NPC's to finish their work dutifully without him needing to micromanage them.

As he rounded the corner, however, he almost bumped into three figures. Of course, that never happened as he stopped immediately, while the three figures instantly moved to the side of the walls to grant him a wide berth to keep walking.

Quickly looking at the group, Sygil realised they were some of the Pleiades maids from the other day.

 _Wonder where they're going?_ He ultimately paid them no heed however, he had his own objective in mind, and so he continued walking by them to the Throne Room, barely granting them a second glance.

He kept walking for several seconds, until he could hear several footsteps behind him.

Turning around, he was greeted with the sight of the same three maids walking behind him. Upon facing them, they stopped immediately, looking at him.

_Okay?_

Ignoring them, he continued on his destination, coming to a branch in the hallway. Taking a left to the Throne Room, he expected the maids to perhaps go elsewhere. Except they didn't. The footsteps followed him to the left.

Stopping, Sygil faced them again, this time scrutinising them for anything unusual.

Other than an emotionless expression on their faces, there was nothing visually unusual compared to the last time he saw them.

_Though, wearing literal maid outfits as combat armour seems unusual, but this guild has a weird fetish problem anyways._

He was aware by now that the NPC's were capable of displaying some sentience. So, he tried his luck with a question.

"Can I help you lovely ladies?" No need to be rude.

However, no-one responded. As per the norm for these NPC's it would seem. And now, Sygil was becoming suspicious.

 _Why are they following me._ He narrowed his eyes, hand subconsciously extended, ready to draw his sabre to block any attack that might come his way.

He was too desperate to take any chances at this stage. His life was on the line with his research and the server shutting down in several days, and he was not going to risk getting stabbed in the back by a mere bunch of computer-generated NPC's.

The tension started to build, but fortunately, it never came to blows as Momonga's voice called out from the Throne Room doorway.

"Sygil! Great to see you, I was gonna message you in a minute!"

The tension between Sygil and the Pleiades dissipated as Momonga walked up to Sygil.

"I see you have your own personal harem now!" joked Momonga.

Sygil rolled his eyes and snorted as he faced Momonga, dropping his hand to his side.

"I highly doubt that Momonga."

Momonga held his skeletal hands placatingly. "I was just joking Sygil."

Sygil shook his head slightly. "Whatever. Have you seen Albedo by chance?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, she should be in the Throne Room as always. Why?"

"I just need to check something is all."

"Like this?" Momonga pulled out a ring of Ains Ooal Gown, holding it out to show Sygil.

Sygil furrowed his brows, but Momonga spoke again.

"You forgot to grab it from Albedo the other day, so I took it back from her to hold instead."

"Well thanks Momonga." Sygil made to reach for it, but Momonga pulled his hand back, pulling the ring out of reach.

"Ah-ah-ah. I want something to pay me back for this," continued Momonga coyly.

"Really now? Like what?"

Momonga placed a hand under his chin as if adopting a thinking pose, keeping the ring out of reach the whole time, before finally speaking.

"How about you play a song for me on the piano? I'd like to hear that."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you don't get the ring back," replied Momonga cheekily.

Sygil glared back at Momonga lightly, before ceding to his wish.

"Very well. If I play one song, you will give back the ring."

"Of course," Momonga was happy now.

"I'll teleport us to the theatre. Do you want to bring your little harem with you as well?"

Sygil gritted his teeth at Momonga's insinuation.

"They're not – " "I know I know! I just find it amusing is all."

Sygil sighed before muttering. "So it would seem."

"Normally they're all stationed outside the Throne Room. Kinda for a reason too. I appreciate you at least not taking them all."

_What?_

"But I didn't take them?" Now Sygil was curious.

"Really? Hmm. That's strange then. Well, I'll send them back to their sisters."

 _Indeed._ Now he felt even more wary of the maids behind him.

Momonga opened the portal and gestured for Sygil to enter. As he followed Sygil through, the portal closed.

* * *

Sygil had never been to the theatre; until the other day, he had never heard of it. Like the rest of Nazarick, it was impressive.

A large stage could be seen at the far end of the room, with golden-trimmed crimson curtains pulled open at half-draw. What looked to be a black Grand Piano rested in the centre of the stage with its lid open.

A range of beautiful chairs and tables for dining or celebrating were carefully arrayed at the front of the stage, while several chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room completely.

The walls on the side contained a mix of paintings and small statues and other sculptures. A red velvet carpet adorned the pathway leading to the stage, and dark timber floor boards were exposed underneath the tables.

Overall, the room was astonishing to look at.

"Well…" gestured Momonga to the piano waiting on the stage.

Sygil took a deep breath before gently exhaling. He began to methodically walk towards the piano. Meanwhile, Momonga took a seat near the front of the theatre to get a good view of Sygil and the Piano.

Sygil climbed the steps, wondering if the piano would even work. For all he knew, it could be purely for cosmetic purposes and not even function due to in-game limitations. Regardless, he went up to the piano and pulled the seat out before calmly sitting down. He could lie to Momonga and say the piano wasn't working at all, but such a lie was detestable. Besides, it couldn't really hurt to play a little bit of piano if it did work. He seldom got the chance to anyways, so why not take it if he could?

Sygil experimentally placed a finger on a random key in the higher octave. A high-pitched E-note reverberated around the theatre, much louder than he would have expected. The fact the piano also worked was pleasantly surprising.

Experimenting with another note, he depressed the Middle-C key, and was rewarded with the appropriate sound.

He tested the sustain and damper pedals to see if they indeed did work as he held the note before letting go of the key. The sound was softer and held.

 _Nice_.

He decided to perform a glissando from the highest key to the lowest, and was rewarded with all of the keys providing a sound.

Seemingly satisfied, he sat in brief silence as he pondered on what to perform. Meanwhile, Momonga and the maids watched on with anticipation.

After some consideration, he deliberated on the piece he wanted to perform, and let his hands take over as he played the first notes of the song. The song? A piece he remembered from a long time ago. A piece called _Hungarian Sonata_.

As Sygil played the song, utilising the piano to its fullest potential, Momonga couldn't help but be mesmerised by not just the song itself, but also the controlled, precise yet calm movements of Sygil's hands and fingers.

He wasn't an expert on piano by any means, but even he could appreciate how nice it sounded to the ears and the level of skill required.

 _Wonder what it would be like on a real piano,_ thought Momonga.

As Sygil finished the song, Momonga applauded.

"That was actually really good Sygil. How long have you been playing for?"

Sygil stood up, pushing the stool back in, much to the disappointment of Momonga.

"A long time, my friend. A long time."

Momonga nodded. "I see. Would you actually like to play for the other guild members when they join during the last hours? They would probably like it. Would make for an even better send-off."

Sygil shrugged however. "We'll see."

Momonga nodded in acceptance. "Well. It was good hearing you play. I'm gonna head to the Meeting Room. Hero-Hero should log on soon, he said."

Sygil walked off of the stage to Momonga. "Of course. Before you go, however…." He extended his gloved palm towards Momonga.

"Oh. Of course. Here you go." Momonga produced and dropped the ring into Sygil's open palm, who smiled sharply before placing the ring on.

"Thank you, Guild-Master," and with that, Sygil teleported back to the Great Library, hoping to finish his research.

* * *

"FUCK!" Sygil's shout could be heard across the entirety of the Great Library. While being loud in a library was often frowned upon, in the context of his current situation, it was well justified.

It was the day of the server shutdown, and only an hour remained before the game would forever close. While that wasn't the cause of his anger, it was the finished books before him that were.

He had finished going through all of the relevant books, hoping to find something, anything! Of course, nothing was ever truly easy, and the books before ultimately yielded nothing other than half-baked concepts that ultimately relied on a range of herbs, spells or other rubbish nonsense to help him. While some of it might be of practical significance, he lacked any of the actual ingredients or components, or even the know-how to craft such concoctions. And even then, it was all based on skewed theory.

"All this time, and I have NOTHING! For fuck's SAAAAAKE!" In a rush of anger he conjured a destructive wave of shadows and threw his hand forth in the direction of the books in the library. The books didn't stand a chance as a wave of destructive shadows crashed through all of the books, destroying much of the library in Sygil's fit of rage. Meanwhile, his two NPC's silently watched on with monotone expressions.

Sygil clenched both his fists and his teeth as he snarled at the offending books sitting on the table before him.

"Fucking worthless!"

After trying to calm himself down, to no avail, he slumped down in the library chair.

He knew it was a foolish venture to place his faith in a virtual reality game, but the actual real-world knowledge stored within the library he was currently in was inadvertently invaluable and priceless. Though, upon looking at the destruction he had caused, it would seem past tense was more appropriate now.

Sighing as he rubbed his fingers through his hair, he realised there was nothing he could really do now. Yggdrasil was a pointless venture. All he had truly done was grant himself some extra time. Time that he had ultimately wasted.

 _Such a foolish fucking gambit I took. I'm such an absolute_ idiot _!_

The game was going to shut down in an hour, and he had no real plan of action now, no backup plan to fall to.

He sat there, trying to contemplate what other options he could try.

_I'll be back in the real world in an hour. Then this blasted infection is going to get worse. Urgh. What to do, what to do!_

Deciding that a walk would be a bit more productive to his thinking, he got up and left the NPC's alone in the desecrated library. Upon entering the hallway, he started thinking his options over.

He had several safe-houses with weapons, munitions, supplies and money to help him accumulate further mortal resources. But even then, they wouldn't be of any real value against Asphaestus, who was surely waiting for him to return, nor would they help cure his infection. And he had no real idea on how to cure a holy infection.

_Is this what happens to me? I lose my soul again, cursed to be forever a husk of my former self?_

He had forever prided himself on his mental fortitude and strength, his resilience to emotional strain, but now? For the first time in what seemed forever, he could feel himself truly despairing.

Nothing made sense any more. From the absurd behaviour of a simple video game interacting with his soul the way it did, to the fact the NPC's seemed to bear some semblance of actual sentience. To literal angels and demons and even gods existing! To him having the abilities he had, and yet still, despite all of that, not being able to understand it fully, or in some cases, even at all. There was nothing he could truly do now. All he could do was wait for the server to shut down and buy him an extra hour of life.

His only other option was somehow to convince an Angel to reverse the Holy curse, or enlist the help of one of his kind. A demon. And he didn't want to do that.

A demon would charge a steep price for such a service. A price he knew he wasn't willing to pay.

_Bad enough as it is being a slave to Lucifer._

And an Angel would certainly run him through again to finish the job, and probably once more for good measure.

_Tch. Self-righteous bastards._

However, wallowing in despair was not productive at all. It was the final hour before the shutdown, and he was damned if he was going to let himself lose. He just needed to find a way.

" _Dammit_!" The muffled voice of Momonga could be heard behind some closed doors to his immediate right. Realising he had walked all the way to the Meeting Room, he curiously opened the doors to be greeted with an angry Momonga, who ranted to himself about his friends, abandonment and whatever other petty mortal bullshit that Sygil cared little for.

He was about to leave the Guild-Master alone when he called out to him.

"Sygil! You're still here?" Behind the genuine shock, there was a trace of hope in his voice.

"Yes. I never left."

Sygil wasn't overly interested in conversing with Momonga.

"Oh? That's good. Hero-Hero just left," Moomonga took a breath in misery. "And now it's just us left. No-one else has bothered to come on."

Sygil pursed his lips while nodding. Momonga's concerns were going in one ear and out the other.

"I see. Sorry to hear about that Momonga." They were just words, though, for he had bigger concerns on his mind.

"It's okay. I kinda did expect it. Most haven't been on in over a year, and some, like Touch-Me and Ulbert couldn't make it. So I was thinking of just spending the last little bit of time left to enjoy everything that my friends and I struggled for."

Momonga's word's seemed to strike a chord within Sygil, as memories of his struggles came forth. He could respect the desire to honour those memories before that's all they became; just memories.

Momonga stood up and walked slowly and deliberately towards the doorway where Sygil stood.

"I was hoping you could walk with me to the Throne Room, one last time." With him, he held a strange golden staff.

Sygil was intrigued by it, but ultimately didn't care. It meant nothing to him, especially within an hour.

"I kind of want to spend some time alone right now," started Sygil, but Momonga held a hand up.

"I got a message and friend request from someone claiming to be a friend of yours, is all."

 _What?_ Now Sygil was confused.

"Friend of mine? First off, I don't really… have friends per se. Secondly, why are they asking you for that?" Sygil felt wary. _Not only that, but the game is closing in not even an hour, so why would they want to request me now?_

"That was my reaction also!" Exclaimed Momonga in concurrence. Though, upon realising how that statement sounded, he made quick to quickly correct himself.

"Er, I mean, concerning asking me. I didn't know you didn't have friends? I thought your army friends…." He trailed off concerned.

Sygil, however, deflected the question. "Stay on track Momonga. Who was asking for me?"

The pair started walking out of the Meeting Room and down the hall to the Throne Room.

"Oh. A player called… Asphaestus? I think that's how it's pronounced."

At that, Sygil couldn't help but widen his eyes.

_He's here?! That bastard's in the game!_

Momonga carried on, seemingly ignorant to the internal plight Sygil had.

"He was pretty adamant about meeting with you."

Before Momonga could react, Sygil was grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him roughly, borderline roaring in his face.

"What did you tell him?! What did you say!" he growled, face furrowed in anger and desperate pleading.

Momonga was surprised by his outburst, and brought his arms up to pull Sygil off of him.

"Nothing! Nothing! I assure you. I told him that if he wanted to meet with you, he had to organise it through you. I told him I would let you know, but after that he disconnected the call. Why, what's up, you seem pretty upset about that?"

Sygil's face turned dark.

"For plenty of good reasons Momonga. That fucker is bad news. Really bad news. You'd do best to stay clear of him if you value your life. Consider that my one piece of advice to you."

Momonga stayed silent at Sygil's exclamation. They both finished their walk in silence to the Throne Room, one person pondering the absurdity of the situation, the other fuming at it.

As they came to the Throne Room, the Pleiades and Sebas stood silently waiting. Sygil was about to enter, but Momonga seemed to stop and admire the group of NPC's.

Sygil opened the doors, vaguely overhearing Momonga ordering the NPC's to follow him. He had too much on his mind.

 _What is Asphaestus doing here? How'd the bastard track me?_ A million questions raced through his mind, none with any solid answers.

Momonga walked up to the throne itself, taking a seat, while ordering the Pleiades and Sebas to stand at the base of the steps leading to the throne.

"Hey Sygil? You alright? Just try to relax. We only have a couple minutes left before it's all over anyways. You'll be fine."

He pondered Momonga's words. Technically, there was some truth. Asphaestus, realistically, wouldn't be able to attack him in game due to Nazarick's fortifications without being detected. And he even if he did have to fight him, due to the in-game limitations, the fight should theoretically be pretty well balanced for both of them. And with only a couple minutes to spare, the odds were astronomically low.

_Perhaps, it's best to enjoy a couple minutes of peace before it all comes crashing down._

"Yeah. You're probably right," responded Sygil lightly, before walking up to Momonga, who was currently accessing Albedo's settings, if judging by the orange box before her.

"What exactly are you doing?" he inquired, curious as to Momonga's actions.

"Ah nothing," stammered Momonga sheepishly. Sygil didn't buy it however, which was evident when he crossed his arms and quirked his eyebrow questioningly.

"I figured it's the last day so no-one is going to know or care. I just edited some of Albedo's settings is all." For such an innocent seeming thing, Momonga sure sounded embarrassed. However, Sygil didn't press for details.

"Actually, that gives me an idea." And judging by the mischievous undertone in Momonga's voice, it probably wasn't a good one. But ultimately, he didn't care. In a matter of minutes, he was going to be ejected back into the real world, and then the race would be on.

He pulled off the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to examine one last time, vaguely overhearing Momonga call Lupusregina over to him. He also saw the ring of creation for the NPC's adorned on his index finger, reminding him of his two NPC's he created.

He could overhear Momonga trying to suppress his laughter, piquing his interest one last time.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just I was reminded of you and your harem the other day, hehe."

Sygil's eyebrow twitched. "What…?"

"It's nothing," chuckled the undead overlord as he dismissed the maid back into formation.

"Kneel," he commanded to the Pleiades and Sebas, while Sygil watched on.

The countdown was now in the seconds.

0.00.45

0.00.44

0.00.43….

"Well Sygil," began Momonga.

"It was fun while it lasted. Out of curiosity, what was it you were exactly reading in the library?"

0.00.34

0.00.33…

Sygil pondered how he should respond briefly, but decided against. There was no need for Momonga to concern himself over such dangerous real-world matters.

Sygil was quick to nonchalantly brush off his question.

"Nothing really. Just looking for ideas for a story is all."

0.00.23

0.00.22…

"Oh. I see. You'll have to tell me all about in when we meet up in Yggdrasil 2."

Sygil had to resist snorting in amusement. Once the server closed down, he was going to sort this mess out. And that would take time he couldn't afford nor wanted to spend with Momonga. It wasn't anything personal against him, he just had too many things to deal with and resolve. And, hopefully atone for, as he thought of his sister again.

"We'll see…"

0.00.10

0.00.09…

Momonga briefly glanced up at Sygil who was now standing to the side of the Pleiades, holding a ring between his forefinger and thumb.

"See you later someday then. Take care, Sygil."

0.00.05

"You too."

0.00.03

0.00.02

0.00.01

0.00.00

The second the clock timer hit zero, Momonga expected to be forcefully logged off, not find the game to keep running after the countdown. Nor was he prepared to hear the most agonised, blood-curling scream of his life….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter surprisingly didn't require as much editing as I thought it would. I did, however, change up and expand a lot of the Pleiades characters perspectives and interactions. I also adjusted the interaction between Sygil and Maxmillian when he adjusts his profile settings. Not too much, mostly minor tweaks there and throughout.  
> Some announcements now:  
> 1\. Next chapter will be posted two days from now because: see 2  
> 2\. The next chapter needs some more serious tweaking. Like, the plot and direction is good and necessary, but some of the dialogue? Like, ho-ly shit 0_o  
> I get the need for condescending attitudes and rubbing in one's mortality, but shit man. I'm almost turned off because of how I structured that. A FFN.net reviewer (Jason-Wu) constructively pointed this out, so I went back and changed it... but if my amended version makes me want to quit, then my original must have wanted to make readers puke. Fuck man. Got some work ahead, but ya live and learn, and hindsight, as well as someone pointing things out helps.   
> So many dialogue tweaks...... ._.  
> 3\. Next update (2 days from now) I'm going to start posting my rewrite to FFN.net. I'll provide more details when I do, but just some heads up.   
> 4\. I wish you all a Merry Christmas, and a safe and happy holidays :D


	8. Welcome to the New World (Pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.
> 
> So I;ll start off with some announcements. There's bad news, followed by potentially more bad news, but potentially good news, and good news for sure.  
> The bad: I promised that I would be posting my rewrite officially to FFN.net, but that has not happened. Why? I haven't really been using my FFN.account, and I don't exactly remember my password of the top of my head. In my everloving wisdom, I created the most complex password ever, cos y'know, a fanfiction account has real important shit on it right? No problem, I'll just refer to my password book like I normally do - oh, wait, I packed it when I started moving, and now it's buried deep inside a box also buried deep inside my shed! Easy, reset the password, and fuck, now I can't remember my gmail account because I literally never use it. So now I'm short two passwords and a rewrite. FML.  
> The potentially good news?: My passwords are all in one book, and I packed it in a box, so it should only take at tops a day to find.   
> The potentially bad news?: Unless its still in my other house that's, oh, 300 fucking km away! Then I hve to wait at least a week because I wont be out there until a week. Renovation supplies, can use trailer when its available, and move shit at the same time to hit multiple birds with one stone.   
> The good news: this rewrite is still continuing on schedule, so yes, the new chapter will still be up by X-mas, just this fic will be AO3 exclusive a tad longer.  
> So sorry for the delay with the FFN.net posting :(  
> Onto the story, and for rewrite details, see my end notes.

**Welcome to the New World (Pt. 1)**

**Three Years (36 months) before the arrival of Momonga…..**

All he could feel was pain. Absolute, agonising, burning pain. It was like a fire across his whole body, burning every single fibre in his body. The worst of it, however, stemmed from the wound in shoulder. Like a mix between a firestorm and an acid bath. The pain was blinding. He couldn't even hear himself scream in pain as the world flashed from a brightly lit throne room bathed in white light, to dark starry night, though he wasn't coherent enough to notice the change. He could vaguely feel the sensation of falling, and what felt like wind buffeting against his body. But the pain overrode everything. It consumed him, his focus and his whole world.

The pain seemed to last for an eternity, as did the sensation of falling. In that time, he tightened his grip around his injury in a vain attempt to try and comfort himself and squeeze the pain out. By now, he was reduced to nothing but basic primal instincts of self preservation.

The feeling of falling was suddenly and violently halted as he crashed into the ground, exploding dirt and grass everywhere, the sheer impact alone sufficient enough to shatter bones. Though, with the amount of pain he was in, the impact and associated pain failed to even register.

He didn't feel himself roll around, tumbling from the fall and impact before coming to a stop, automatically curling into a ball and clenching his injury with such fervour and a vice-like grip.

It took what felt like forever for the pain to begin to recede, and with it, Sygil could feel his senses returning.

He could hear his own ragged breathing as breathed in actual air of the real world. Under normal circumstances, it would have been absolutely satisfying, but currently, he was too engrossed in his own world, trying to recover from some of the worst pain he had felt ever.

It took several minutes for him to feel somewhat calm enough to straighten out and lay on his back.

 _That was… the most… horrific return to the real world._ The pain had felt much worse on this return to the real world. Normally it would be a more minor attack of pain that would quickly go away. This attack, though, was much more severe and debilitating.

As he lay there on his back, slowly loosening his clutch on his shoulder, he could begin to feel the long, soft blades of grass he was laying on. He could slowly make out the starry night sky above him, and he could feel the gentle, cool breeze against his skin.

As his mind cleared and the pain became nothing more than a memory, he sat upright, actually taking in his surroundings.

The night sky, while still dark, was enough to help illuminate vague silhouettes and shapes in the distance.

Currently, he was situated on top of a hill. In front of him lie a dense and thick forest, but aside from the basic shape of the massive trees he wasn't able to clearly see inside it. Otherwise, all around him lay grassy plains and hills with scattered shrubs and the odd tree.

As he loosened his grip on his injured shoulder, he could feel it start to flare up, and instinctively tightened his grip. It seemed to work and the pain began to fade away again.

Staring around himself, he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

He was stuck with a debilitating injury, trapped in the middle of nowhere, and completely exposed sitting on top of the hill. It was a wonder Asphaestus or some other cretin hadn't ambushed him yet.

At the thought of Asphaestus, his eyes widened and he forced himself to stand up.

_Where is that bastard?!_

Looking around, there was no-one to be seen, but then again considering how dark it was, he may be wrong.

While he needed to find a way to treat his injury, something he was struggling with, his first priority was to get out of the open.

 _I'm way too exposed_.

Looking at the forest, he estimated it was probably less than a kilometre away, something manageable, but it did leave him exposed in the interim. He could only hope the cover of darkness would help him from anyone watching him.

So, he began his trek forth, ignoring his battered limbs and dirtied clothes. He would need to change that soon.

* * *

After several minutes of walking, he reached the forest. It was pitch black inside, the foliage and upper canopies preventing even the smallest traces of light from penetrating deep into it. The trees were twisted and many had gnarled roots.

Letting go of his injured shoulder, no pain returned. For now. He was able to somewhat freely move his arm, meaning he had two free hands to deal with anybody that might try to get the jump on him. While he doubted he was at immediate risk of attack, it paid to be cautious.

And so, he took his first steps into the forest, hoping to eventually come across civilisation or someone so he could get on track to fighting against Asphaestus.

_I need to know where I am first. Being dumped in the middle of nowhere was not part of the plan, nor should it have happened. I should have been placed back into the room._

He was surprised at having ended up in the middle of nowhere. Though, perhaps it counted as a blessing in disguise.

_If Asphaestus was able to track me in Yggdrasil, then he probably was capable of tracking down the safehouse I was in._

He didn't know for sure though.

_I need to find a way to one of my other safehouses then. But first, I need to find where I am._

Stumbling through the forest, he had to avoid tripping over stones, roots and other materials masked by the darkness. Several patches of light from the stars and moon managed to break through in several openings in the canopy randomly, and he relied on those to help him navigate forest.

He had no real sense of direction, but going in a straight line was bound to end somewhere. At least, until the sun came up.

As he walked through the forest, something didn't seem right, though. Like the forest was missing something. But he failed to know what it was. Regardless he pushed on. Until he heard it.

A defining roar could be heard around him, followed by the crashing of foliage as something big lumbered towards him.

Sygil adopted a guard stance and prepared to summon his sabre in the event he needed it.

The roar did not sound like any animal roar he had ever heard, and once the culprit finally crashed through the foliage, the beast before looked nothing like any creature from the real world he had seen, or ever would expect to see.

It was hard to see it clearly in the darkness, but it stood at approximately 3 metres tall, with a humanoid shape. The arms appeared to be somewhat larger compared to its body, as if ill-proportioned. However, the cause of concern for Sygil was not the grotesque shape of the thing, nor the unnatural noises in made, but rather the makeshift weapon it held that was being swung overhead to crush him.

He wasted no time in sidestepping the attack, feeling the impact reverberate in the ground and dust blown into his body and all around.

 _Fuck using a sword for this thing_. He opted to go hardcore and kill this thing the easy way.

Before the beast could react, he summoned several shadow spikes to crash into the beast.

The darkness seemed to swirl around as the unnatural laws obeyed his command, and the beast didn't have a chance to raise its makeshift club before it was impaled by tens of needle-like shadows, some thin, many large.

The beast didn't even let out a scream or roar, instead gurgling out in pain as every organ and muscle structure was impaled, including its pathetic voice box.

Sygil didn't need to see the blood to know he had done his job successfully, and after several seconds of letting the beast's life force drain away, he retracted the shadows, allowing the fresh corpse to hit the ground face-first with a loud crash.

While he was confident the beast was dead, he still approached with caution. No need for any surprise tricks or another attacker.

In the distance, he could hear some soft hooting and screeching, as if some animals were aware of his victory, though he abstained from referring to it as that. It was literally a one-sided slaughter.

Prodding the corpse with his foot for a reaction, he was rewarded with no response to the stimulus. Satisfied, he crouched down in the darkness to try and examine the beast that attacked.

He could make out a deformed, grotesque shape that was seemingly lighter in colour, standing out a bit more in the darkness.

Grabbing it by both shoulders, it was as heavy as it looked when rolled it over, and only due to his more supernatural strength did he more easily accomplish the feat.

It had a rather ugly humanoid face, with a bulbous nose and squinted eyes. However, the amount of blood escaping from all of its open wounds made it difficult to immediately identify any further features.

As for what the beast itself was, he had no clue.

_What the hell is this thing? I never heard of anything like this existing back in the real world._

Unfortunately, it was too dark to properly analyse it, nor did he have the time.

Standing up, he looked in the direction thing came from, barely able to make out the disturbed trees, shrubs and foliage

* * *

Ultimately, he decided against investigating where the _thing_ came from as he stood to gain little from it. It was better if he just kept going in the direction he was initially headed.

Taking one final cursory glance at the beast, he started to continue to his destination, carefully navigating through the foliage.

For what felt like an hour, he kept walking, slowly adapting to the darkness, both in vision and in spatial awareness. He spent less time tripping in the dark, but it was still hard to see.

Ahead, he could see a clearing which seemed to open up into a wider grass field. Seeing as he might have an opportunity to get a wider view of the surrounding vicinity, he decided to take a chance at going into the open. First, he just needed to cross the rest of the forest floor.

And he barely took a single step forward when he felt something directly under his foot, followed by the sound of moving air.

The next thing he knew something had latched around his ankle and hoisted him up into the air, hanging him upside down while what felt like a heavy duty net wrapped around his body, trapping him like an animal.

He was left hanging a good two metres from the ground, suspended upside down, with his body and limbs pressed together tightly by the closed netting of the trap.

_Great! Just fucking great!_

He barely had several seconds to react to what just happened when he could hear the same hooting and howling sound from earlier when he encountered the strange beast, only this time it was much closer. It sounded as if multiple of these animals were flocking to his position. However, he paid little heed to it as he tried to free one of his arms so he could summon his sabre to cut himself down. Until the area he was in started to become illuminated by amber lights.

The chattering sound became much closer around him, and he started to realise it wasn't animals chattering.

_Is that people cheering?_

Perhaps this incident wasn't as annoying as it might have been. People meant he had access to a civilisation. Civilisation meant he could reorient himself and begin a plan of action to get back to a safehouse.

Those hopes were, however dashed as he got a glimpse at who his trappers were.

About seven figures exited from the foliage all around him below, carrying actual fire-torches to illuminate their paths.

All seven were female, dressed in an assortment of rather revealing leather and steel armour. They were each, from what he could see so far, equipped with an array of swords, bows, arrows and axes.

They, however, couldn't quite see his features due to the height of his suspension as well as the netting covering much of his body.

"Yeah! We finally got one!"

"About time!"

"Tell me about it!"

“Yeah. I’m starving!”

Their excited chatter continued for a good couple of seconds until one of the women stepped forth with a torch to better illuminate him. She was dressed in a much more elaborate set of less-revealing armour that somewhat offered more protection, covering the midriff, torso and hips much more effectively than essentially the metal/leather hybrid bikinis the other ragtag mob was wearing,

She wore what appeared to be steel-capped boots with steel greaves and vambraces. Meanwhile, leather faulds attached to a leather and steel chest-plate that completely covered her entire torso save for her neck, whilst leaving her shoulders exposed. An open faced helmet similar to what the romans wore covered protected her head, and engraved eagle wings could be seen jutting out from the sides, facing behind her.

The chatter died down as the, he assumed, leader of the group had a better look at their captive.

After a pregnant pause, she made her verdict with disappointment.

"It's a man. A worthless catch."

"Ew. So weak," sneered one of the other women.

 _Bitch_ , he retorted silently.

"So what are we to do with it then?"

"Ooh, do we eat it?"

"Can we use it as a fuck-toy?"

"No!" Commanded the same woman sharply. _Definitely the leader then_.

"Have some more couth! You were all raised and trained to be better than that."

That seemed to temporarily shut up the chatter, while the leader scrutinised him further, not like a piece of meat, but rather a predator sizing prey and deciding if it was worth even bothering.

She turned to face her group strictly, before proclaiming.

"This… _man_ … is to be brought back to Gallheia and the rest of The Order. They will decide what is to be done with it. Only after, will we decide what can become of it. Do try to control yourself."

 _Of all the people, I got captured by a primitive tribe!_ This couldn't do. He highly doubted they would be able to help him reconnect with _advanced_ civilisation. He needed to get out. But at the same time, he also needed to get his current location from them. At the very least he could then know where to head to next.

However, he also didn't like what their intentions with him were. So he decided to voice his opinion.

"Ladies! I would much appreciate you letting me go now."

Instead, he was greeted with a solid strike to the head with the broad side of a sword from one of the women below.

"Silence, you savage! Do not speak unless spoken to!"

_The fucking irony._

The leader of the group stood silent, merely watching the events unfold.

Perhaps negotiation with _this_ group wasn't going to work, but perhaps the order they were referring to might. Or, they might be just as useless as this lot.

Still, while violence would be a lovely option to resort to, diplomacy would be more effective. Though, the way _that_ one bitch was prodding at him through the net with a sword was going to change his opinion pretty damn soon if she didn't stop. Fortunately, the same woman from earlier chastised her and she reluctantly stopped.

"Cut him down and bind him. Don't be too rough though," the leader spared a pitiful glance in his direction, "their kind tend to be weaker."

 _The nerve of…._ Sygil bit his tongue. He was going to get nowhere with this one, so he might as well save his breath.

One of the women used her sword to cut him down, whilst three others caught him as he fell. He started to untangle himself from the netting, but the other women beat him to it and had him out in mere seconds. Before he could do anything though, two of them held his arms roughly behind his back, whilst a third grabbed and cut some of the netting to tie his hands with. Another woman began patting him down for weapons. The next thing he could feel, she was tugging at what felt like a ring attached to his gloved hand.

 _Wait? Ring? I don't have a ring._ However, that was low on his priorities.

It was as some of the women started to either ogle or jeer at him that he noticed the animal ears and furry tails connected to each of their bodies, save for their leader.

 _What the fuck?_ _First a strange beast and now anthropomorphic people? What am I getting in to? What the hell is going on?_

He let them roughly lead him to wherever they were taking him as he pondered on his predicament.

By now he was questioning both his sanity and the situation before him, specifically the presence of animal people and strange beasts. Things he knew were not native to the Real World outside of the supernatural realm. And it most certainly did not feel like the supernatural realm to him. For starters, he was in a physical body, not a spirit form.

He felt a hand roughly shove him in the back to keep him moving forward.

He could still hear them cheering, jeering and hollering as he was lead like the prisoner he was. All except for the leader of the group. It would appear she was much more level-headed and, he daresay, mature in how she handled him, even if she did voice her distaste for him.

It still didn't excuse their roughhousing of him.

_They better have something of value…_

They walked for several more minutes, the torch-light illuminating their pathway, thus allowing them to traverse much more quickly. Meanwhile he ignored the group to the best of his abilities, focusing instead on the leader.

She carried herself with the stance of a professional warrior, and judging by some of the faint scar lines on her exposed skin, she was no stranger to combat either. She looked to be older than the others, but even then there was no denying she was attractive. More of a mature elegance, though he didn't bother to let himself get distracted by such thoughts.

Something told him of all the women that were holding him captive, so far she was the one that seemed to be the strongest.

They eventually came closer to a well-lit encampment within the forest. Wooden barricades surrounded a stone temple, with wooden torches lighting up the vicinity.

The temple looked similar to an ancient Aztec temple, though much smaller in size.

As he walked through the wooden entrance, he was greeted with the sight of many more of the strange animal people. Many had stopped what they were doing to watch the party return with its new captive, and many murmurs could be heard. Some were expressing disappointment, others concern. The whispers were ignored, however, as the party of women led him to the base of the temple before they halted. The leader wheeled to face him.

"Listen, and listen well. You are about to meet the elders, where they will decide your fate. Do _not_ speak unless spoken to. Answer any and all questions they have about you truthfully. Do I make myself clear." There was a heavy warning undertone to her voice.

Sygil merely nodded his head slowly in affirmation, which seemed to satisfy her.

_We'll see, lady._

Said lady suddenly grabbed him by the arms from behind and started to lead him up the steps to the top of the temple, while the rest of the women gave them a wider berth. As he started to ascend the steps, he could faintly hear some of the murmurs and whispers start anew. He ignored them, however. Instead he made a mental checklist of what he wanted to ask. Because, one way or another, whether these elders and their tribes-people liked it, he was getting answers!

As he ascended to the top of the steps two small lit pyres could be seen, one on each side of the floor, illuminating the entirety of the temple top, casting deep dark shadows behind some of the support pillars. The night sky was blocked by a flat stone roof, and directly in front of him, elevated by another small set of steps, sat several figures on series stone seats arranged in a semi-circle. Behind them, a doorway led to inside the temple, but its contents were obscured by the lack of light that managed to penetrate inside.

The woman led him to the centre of the temple, directly in front of the elders, he assumed.

There were two people seated, though the one on the large throne-like slab was likely the head elder.

What shocked him was their age. The person sitting on the throne couldn’t have been any older than fifty.

Upon closer observation, the woman atop of the throne was also one of the animal people, currently adorned in a set of blue robes that exposed her shoulders. A gold-framed tooth necklace rested over her slightly exposed cleavage, while the headdress she wore contained an assortment of exotic feathers and leaves. Most likely to show off her regal status.

She indeed looked like he would have expected an Aztec ruler to look like, save for the golden, furry tail currently wrapping from behind her and onto her lap. She eyed him with slight curiosity.

The other woman sitting beside her on a smaller stone seat was dressed quite differently, however. She was dressed much like the woman holding her captive, wearing a suit of leather armour that adequately protected her entire torso, containing steel-coated leather faulds to protect her waist and hips. A steel breast-plate covered the leather chest-piece up to the base of the neck, leaving the throat and shoulders exposed. Leather vambraces, with steel-rim coating overlaid in intricate leaf and wreath patterns adorned both her arms. Meanwhile her thighs were exposed; a softer easy target to aim for in a fight. Leather greaves adorned both her lower legs, with steel plating wrapping around the shin in the same matching intricate pattern as the vambraces. Leather, patterned boots protruded from underneath the greaves, protecting her feet as she sat with her legs crossed. An open-face helmet with what appeared to be feathered wings on each side of her face jutted out in an open sweeping motion.

Upon looking around, he could see three more women dressed similarly as the apparent leader, including the woman holding him, now that he observed further. The only difference separating them from their leader was the level of intricacy and patterns on their armour. That and the sheathed swords and bow and quiver of arrows the rest adorned. It would appear they were part of the elite guard for this tribal woman. The most striking features that they all bore was the golden hair they wore back behind their helmets, and their eyes, which were a faded, greyish blue, like they had lost all life in them.

 _Almost like angels, they are_. And it wasn't their beauty he was referring to, though they were indeed quite attractive, all looking to be about the same age; quite young at 30 he estimated.

"On your knees, Man," commanded the woman holding him.

 _That's a bold and arrogant statement_. No, he had had enough of being dictated to now. While he was willing to do some things for the long-term goals, by kneeling on demand he was portraying weakness, and that would likely prevent him from being granted information. Especially, considering the tribal people before him likely prided strength above all else. Then again, he may be wrong. But he wasn't going to kneel. It was the principle.

The woman holding his arm must have sensed his rebellion, as she suddenly looked furious, and roughly grabbing him by the shoulder, tried to push him onto his knees. "I said on your knees!"

However, her surprise was evident as he actually used his demonic strength to overpower hers. The result was she couldn't push him down. What he didn't let show on his face was his own surprise at her strength when she pushed.

 _Fuck she's strong!_ He had to put considerable effort into standing as her strength seemed supernatural even.

 _No mortal human should be able to possess this much strength!_ Indeed, she was strong, but so was he. The result was neither were able to move each other; a stalemate in a sudden contest of strength.

"Enough! It is clear our guest does not, or will not, kneel before me." The voice came from the animal-woman sitting on the larger throne, her sharp eyes watching him with interest. As were the other women, especially the armoured one sitting on the throne, who was eyeing him with a greater deal of interest now.

"Indeed," agreed Sygil.

Before any of the women could take offense or object, he continued.

"I would much prefer to be untied and released. I need to get to the nearest town or city as soon as possible." He listed his demand, hoping they would just comply for once. However, he somehow knew that they wouldn't just grant him what he wished for.

Indeed, as he was rewarded with a sudden strike to his temple from the woman holding him captive currently.

His question went ignored by the women. Instead the animal-woman directed a question at his immediate captor.

"So, Valera, why have you brought this… specimen… before me?" Her tone was dismissive of his existence as being considered an equal life-form, apparently.

The woman, named Valera, responded.

"The mortal man was caught in one of our traps by the training party. Unfortunately, he is the only catch for today. The only thing in his possession, save for his clothes, was a ring."

Upon saying, she produced the very ring in question.

Valera's response was curt. As if she only respected the other woman out of requirement only.

"That is most unfortunate indeed," agreed the tribal leader sagely as Valera held the ring out. Upon quick glance, Sygil noticed something that suddenly made him more uncertain.

The ring Valera was holding out was the ring of summoning from Yggdrasil. The very one he used to create his two NPC's. _What is it doing here in the real world?_

"Give it to me," ordered Gallheia. One of the female guards from behind stepped out to retrieve the ring from Valera before depositing it in the extended hand of Gallheia, before resuming her post.

Gallheia held the ring up, admiring its design and examining it in general.

"A magic ring. Quite a powerful one too, it would seem. It will do quite well." Gallheia allowed a small smile to form on her face, before she addressed the matter concerning Sygil.

"As for the specimen, I do thank you for bringing it before me. It might serve our tribe well," continued the tribal leader, referring to him.

Valera bowed abruptly, "of course, Mistress Gallheia."

Gallheia merely nodded her head to acknowledge Valera. "Thank-you for your service. Now, I wish to question it for myself."

"For starters, I am not an _it_." Began Sygil before Gallheia could continue.

The armoured woman sitting beside Gallheia narrowed her eyes, waving her hand to prevent Valera from striking him again..

"You should watch your tone, _Man_. You are my prisoner," sneered Gallheia. "Therefore, you only speak when spoken to! Or I'll see to it your tongue is removed."

Sygil, however, was having none of it.

"Yeeeaaaaaah, " drawled Sygil uncaringly. "Lady, it is precisely because you think you have me as your prisoner that I'm not going to conform to that."

The armoured guards behind them bristled at that, whilst the armoured woman on the throne seemed to tighten her facial muscles, intensifying her glare. Gallheia, however, was completely perturbed and, he daresay, even mortified.

"I think you don't realise how much of a precarious position you are in," warned the armoured woman on the second throne.

Sygil had to struggle to prevent rolling his eyes, but the same couldn't be said for his tongue.

"Much more than you realise," he replied sarcastically.

His quip, on second-thought, was perhaps not the greatest thing, as Valera backhanded him across the face with sufficient force to actually land him in his back. Apparently, she wasn't holding back this time after their contest of strength.

By now, Sygil was starting to sport a light bruise on his face.

"Jeez lady, do you have to be so – " "-SILENCE!" Roared Gallheia.

"Why were you trespassing on our sacred lands?" It was more of a demand than a question.

"I'm a little lost currently. I was hoping you could point me to the nearest town or city."

Gallheia beckoned to Valera, who seemed to acknowledge the hidden message and roughly picked him up only to through him face first into the ground before placing a steel capped boot onto his head, applying pressure as she seemingly ground him into the stone.

"Do not lie to me again," warned Gallheia. "Why were you found on our sacred lands!"

"Jesus Christ, I'm not lying! Now can you call off Valera so she doesn't crush my skull into oblivion!"

The armoured women seemed to slightly perk up in interest, for some reason, however Gallheia seemed offended for some reason.

"Do NOT, ever speak the names of the messengers of God with your wretched tongue, man!"

_Wow. These people take the name of Christ seriously!_

"Fair enough," he grunted. "I promise to not use the Lord's name in vain around you, now can you get Valera to step off of my head, for the second time. Please." He added the last part. He really was making a poor impression.

It seemed to infuriate Gallheia and several of the other women however.

However, before their rage could be carried over, the armoured woman gently raised a hand to quiet them. Even Gallheia stopped before she could execute her rage on him in some manner.

The armoured woman sat silent for several seconds before finally speaking for the first time with a strong, angelic voice that matched her features.

“Mortal. I am Aries, Commandant of the Holy Order, and Chief Messenger of God.”

_Great. A title of a fanatical Angel wannabe worthy of curing insomnia._

“You claim to be lost, yet you were found deep within our sacred lands. I have doubt of your claim to be merely… lost. So I shall ask you only once, and I expect nothing less than the truth. Why have you trespassed on our lands, and how did you get so far into them?”

“Well, Aries. Since we are on name basis, I’ll start of by stating mine. It’s Sygil. Not mortal.”

_Fucking Angel-wannabe._

“Secondly, I just answered your question. I. Am. Lost. I literally woke up on the edge of the forest. I’m just trying to find the nearest city or town. If you’d be so kind as to point me in the direction of the nearest one and let me go, that’d be absolutely lovely.”

He honestly felt like he was talking to child at this point.

Aries was having none of it however, and instead continued with her questions, dismissing him altogether.

“I care little for your name. You are of the mortal realm, and you are a Man. Such primitiveness and arrogance is to be expected from you and your kind. What is not expected is how you have come into possession of such a powerful item,” she was gesturing to his ring that Gallheia now was holding.

“Frankly, it’s none of your damn business.”

That only prompted Valera to press harder on to his skull.

_Damn bitch is on steroids!_

Gallheia was quick to interject, however.

"Man, you have been granted a rare of honour of being able to converse with a Messenger of God! She has graced you with an opportunity to prove your intentions, so the least you could do is be respectful!"

_I am!_

"With all due respect, you having my skull crushed face-first into the stone is _not_ leaving the best impression," he gritted out in frustration.

"And neither is your lack of couth, Man," spat Gallheia.

"I have a name, you know. It's not just _man_ ," he retorted.

Gallheia narrowed her eyes.

"And quit being weak and pathetic, like the rest of your kind. Your actions only prove the words of the Messengers of God!"

“And I could care less!”

_If I don't get my answers in the next couple of minutes, I'm getting them the old-fashioned way._

Gallheia beckoned to Valera, who released her boot from his head and hoisted him up by his tied arms.

"Your kind bring nothing but war and death. Your kind are brutish, vile and stupid, and you are no exception. It was decreed by the Messengers of God themselves as per the old teachings.”

Was it him, or did Aries look slightly uncomfortable?

“Your only use will be to help provide the seed necessary to create a new generation of warriors.”

_WHAT?!_

"Unfortunately, I don't have time for that, I really need to reach the nearest town or city!"

“This is not a choice,” she retorted smugly.

“ _This_ is the price you pay for being too weak. Out here?” She gestured around her.

“Only the strong survive. By surrendering to us, you have forfeited your rights. You are now mine to do with as I please.”

_BULL. FUCKING. SHIT!_

“Since you are showing flagrant disrespect to us, perhaps a night in the pits will help you learn the error of your ways. Valera. Take him. Perhaps tomorrow night he will be more willing to speak with respect, like a good little human.”

“And what honour is there in literally snaring me like a rabbit? Besides, I never surrendered at all, let alone to a coward who sits on an oversized rock like you.” He could feel his blood boiling at this indignant, arrogant little upstart.

Aries, who had been watching him with trepidation for what seemed an eternity, finally spoke up, cutting off Gallheia before she could retort.

"Valera, wait." Gallheia shot a look at Aries.

"Did the mortal surrender?" Gallheia looked incredulous at Aries’ statement.

“No. He was indeed caught in a trap. There was no fight.”

Aries continued with the same regal tone, "We are a culture of warriors; that is how each and every one of us have been raised. It is how you were raised." The last part was directed at Gallheia.

“Even though I detest their kind, if he has indeed not fully sacrificed whatever little honour he may possess, then he is entitled a right to earn a warriors death. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Gallheia seemed reluctant and Sygil swore he could hear the grinding of her teeth as she relented.

"Indeed, your words of wisdom perhaps are correct, _Aries_ ," ceded Gallheia.

Gallheia stood up to full height, stepping from the throne steps to Sygil's level, scrutinising every fibre of his being as if he were some disease.

"It doesn't change the fact that it intruded on our territory." Her head suddenly snapped to Valera.

"Valera! Take it to the pits in the meantime. However, do not let anyone near it yet. I have much to discuss with Aries. Until we reach a consensus, no-one is to go near it."

Valera bowed curtly. "As you decree, your majesty."

Valera hardly sounded enthusiastic, but nonetheless dutifully complied. Meanwhile, Sygil reflected on his situation.

He _could_ use brute force to make them submit, kill off anyone that tried to stop him, and then extract the information he wanted. However, Valera's physical strength alone was cause for concern. That, and this Aries woman was going to be having a discussion with Gallheia determining his fate. He could wait for the verdict, and depending on what it was, he would decide on his next course of action. Honestly, he was surprised at his own patience with them, even if it was limited.

_Guess years of life experience have paid off._

In the meantime, he wanted to probe Valera and the others for any strengths and weaknesses if things did get messy, which they likely would. He wanted every possible advantage there was, and knowledge was power.

Valera grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and pushed him along to head back down the steps, and he shot one final glance at Aries and Gallheia as they watched him leave, before they began to converse.

* * *

At this stage, Sygil was likely out of earshot, but neither of the two could care less. Gallheia was the first to begin.

"Aries. I truly respect your wisdom and the teachings you have provided to us over the generations. You and your order have been invaluable to us, and for that I… _we_ , are truly all grateful to you. However. This thing that has been brought before us is an opportunity to help ensure our clan can survive another generation. And I cannot, for all our sakes, let it slip by."

Aries responded softly, "I know. However, we provided our teachings to your clan so they can be used for the betterment of yourselves. To be honourable. What you are doing is instead creating an endless cycle of hatred."

"It is you who taught us that Men should be hated due to how destructive they are. How they revel in their vile emotions for the sake of self-pleasure and greed."

"To be wary of their race! Not to conduct needless campaigns of destruction against them purely to propagate your numbers and make you the new tyrant on the block. What you are doing is the exact same as those amongst their ranks who would do the same to you. Only you justify your actions as representative for the needs of the whole clan." Aries was frowning, but she refused to let her voice rise. Regardless, the concern was evident in her tone.

"You have an opportunity to mend the damage you have helped cause! You should take it. Not to help yourself in the short-term, but for the long-term." By now, there was slight pleading in Aries voice.

Gallheia refused to look at her, however, staring forward with resolute conviction in her voice. "And I am thinking of the long-term. _It_ will benefit the clan for a long time, providing us with the newest generation of warriors until it is no longer capable of doing so. It is what you taught us to do."

"Do NOT try to deliberately misinterpret our teachings, _Gallheia_. You are still amongst the mortal realm. We provided you with the knowledge and training to become stronger. To make your clan stronger, just as your ancestors were." There was a warning tone underneath Aries voice as she continued.

"Not to be used selfishly to do unto others as you see fit."

Gallheia abruptly wheeled on Aries, looking coldly at her.

"Need I remind you that your loyalties lie to the clan and its leaders. Since I am only looking out for the best for my clan, you are obliged to both grant me your blessing _and_ obey my commands. That is what was stipulated by the founders of the tribe, and what you agreed to. Was it not?"

Aries had to resist the temptation to grit her teeth, so she adopted a neutral tone. "That is correct.."

Gallheia smirked. "Then do as your leader decrees."

Aries narrowed her eyes. However, before she could say anything, Gallheia continued, oblivious and uncaring to Aries' concerns.

"I will allow for him to have a chance to earn its freedom then, seeing as you are so persistent."

Aries felt somewhat relieved at Gallheia's verdict.

"However," she continued. "I will determine what the rules of the fight are. A fight against some of our warriors, so as to prove their mettle and assure you that your teachings have not been discarded. If _it_ can survive against _all_ of my chosen warriors, my champions…. Then _it_ will be free to leave. If it isn't strong enough, then it deserves its fate. You will, under NO circumstances, intervene. Nor will your order. Am I clear Aries."

Aries pursed her lips, a pregnant pause before she finally relented to the expecting woman. "As you wish, your _majesty_."

"Good." Gallheia strode over and carefully sat back down on her throne, her tail curling back around onto her lap.

"The Trial for Manumission will occur one hour after sunrise. See to it that the arena is adequately prepared."

Aries dipped her head respectfully. "As you wish."

She was about to stand up, when suddenly Gallheia spoke warningly one last time.

"Aries. While you may be a Messenger of God as you proclaim, if you ever try to make such decisions behind my back, and without my consent, there will be consequences. Are we clear?”

Aries paused briefly, before curtly replying. "Of course."

With that, she retired to the back room of the temple, acknowledging a small nod at the three Order members who had solemn looks upon their faces.

She had made a mistake, and now her order was paying the price for it.

* * *

Sygil was lead down the bottom of the steps and across a basic street, walking by several wooden huts and make-shift houses. He only knew his destination was the so-called _pits_.

As he was marched through the encampment towards his temporary holding pen, he observed the residents of the village.

Other than the obvious lack of actual humans so far, there were no males around. The village seemed comprised solely of females, all of whom wore an assortment of leather, steel, fur or combination armour and clothing. Though clothing was a liberal definition, as the vast majority seemed intent and comfortable displaying as much skin as possible, adopting 'armour bikinis' and what appeared to be 'short-shorts' and the armour equivalent of a workout bra.

He refused to acknowledge it as armour at all, as all of their vitals were too exposed.

There were a few children scattered randomly amongst the women and fortunately they had the decency to dress somewhat more appropriately. Again, however, all of the children were young girls, probably between 8 and 11. No males present.

Valera shoved him, breaking him from his observations.

"This way, mortal," she ordered curtly with disinterest.

Ignoring her attitude, he complied, and was led down an embankment to where three brightly lit wooden cages sat, half buried in the ground.

Upon closer inspection as they neared them, they were actually pits, as the name was suggested, with a wooden cage above to prevent escape.

He could escape in a jiffy if he wanted to, using a number of means, so he wasn't concerned for now. He just hoped that they would move it along, because if he was going to be stuck in here for more than a few hours, he was breaking out and getting answers.

Valera opened the middle pit, and roughly pulled him in before giving him a final shove.

"Wait here until ordered otherwise," stated Valera coldly.

"You do know my name, right? I literally gave it not even ten minutes ago; the least you could do is actually use it." His eye twitched with slight irritation.

Valera ignored him and stood posted outside his current prison, hand on the hilt of her sword, facing to the side to both watch him out of the corner of her eye, and watch any potential arrivals.

Accepting that the woman likely wouldn't respond, he decided to use his downtime to start going over his plans and what he currently knew; for starters, his predicament.

Currently, he faced several mysteries. The most glaring being who the animal people with ears and tails were. As far as he was aware, no such beings existed on earth.

The second concerning issue was Valera's supernatural strength.

Now, there was no denying that, with sufficient strength and willpower, humans could become exceptionally strong, but the strength required to match his was supernatural.

It was confusing and, frankly, concerning. Such strength was indicative of a supernatural entity such as an Angel or a Demon.

Then there was the whole giant beast incident earlier. He had no real lead or idea where to begin with that one, so he saved it for later reference in the future.

And last, but certainly not least, was the Ring of Summoning from Yggdrasil.

_What is it doing here, in the real world?_

It should not have transferred over when he was logged out of Yggdrasil, yet it was. So why had it?

Realising he was going to get nowhere with these questions currently, he decided against further questioning them and instead decided to focus on his next plan of action once he was back into civilisation.

_First step, find out where I am. From there, I can relocate to the nearest safehouse. The souls I got from Vessie and her gang should me over long enough to organise myself properly and actually plan how to deal with the holy injury._

Over the next hour, he pondered on the specifics of his plan of action, and how he could go about treating the holy injury. He allowed himself to become lost in thought as he sat calmly cross-legged. He could afford a couple hours for the 'elders' to come to a conclusion.

It was about an hour later that he could hear someone approaching. Looking up casually, he saw Valera stiffen to attention as a figure approached.

He couldn't see who due to the depth of the pit, so he stood up, lightly dusting himself as he did so, before he walked closer to the edge of the cage where Valera stood.

It didn't take long for him to realise who the figure was, due to both the armour and the voice that spoke.

"Valera. You can stand down," reassured Aries. And Valera did that, much more enthusiastically than he would have expected considering Gallheia's orders of no contact.

"Aries. What brings you here?"

Sygil listened on with interest, deciding to lean back against the pit wall as the two conversed.

"I came to inform you of Gallheia's verdict."

"Really? So what is it?" questioned Valera with genuine curiosity.

"I managed to convince and remind her of the tradition. She reluctantly agreed, and therefore the Mortal Man will have a chance to prove himself before everyone in the arena at first dawn."

"A trial by combat?" inquired Valera.

"Yes," responded Aries, oblivious or uncaring to Sygil's presence.

Sygil, however, listened with piqued interest.

"The Trial will occur in the Arena, where Gallheia will have selected her champion to represent the clan. I have instructed the rest of the Order to prepare both the Arena and the rest of the masses for the trial."

"And what of the mortal?" questioned Valera.

Aries shot an eyebrow up. "What about him?"

"To be a fair fight, shouldn't he be granted a chance to at least rest temporarily? To have the fight so soon…." She trailed off.

Aries waved a hand in dismissal. "It is his own fault if he is too weak to fight. Besides, Gallheia made the decision, not me."

Valera muttered in distain. "Gallheia is always making the decisions now. She has too much control and you know it too."

"Valera," Aries eyes narrowed as she reprimanded her.

"You know it's the truth," protested Valera.

"Whether it is or not, we have discussed this before. There is nothing to be done about it. Not now." She whispered the last part to herself. Sygil, however, picked up on it.

_Seems to be some issues in the tribe then? Curious._

Aries picked up, however. "Regardless, we are honour-bound to sanction the Trial. Have him out of the pit half an hour after sunrise. Gallheia will be conducting an announcement, and all of the clan must be present. We will oversee the Trial, but we mustn't intervene."

"Of course. As per the tradition. Still, it bothers me."

Aries closed her eyes, before speaking.

"I know. It… hurts me too, knowing about it. But we can't dwell on it anymore. There is nothing to be done about it."

Valera made to protest further, but Aries coldly shut her down. "And that is the last I want to hear of it."

Valera's mouth shut before she tightened her lips in defeat. "Yes. Aries."

Sygil stared on with interest at the duo, before speaking up.

"You know, I'm right here. You know, instead of speaking _about_ me when I am right here, you could talk _to_ me," he suggested somewhat sarcastically.

Aries shot him a scathing look, acknowledging him for the first time since arriving. "You should learn to shutup, mortal."

Sygil just rolled his eyes. "It's Sygil." He stressed his name. "I already gave it to you. Why is it so difficult for you to use it?"

Aries turned to face Valera again, shooting him a sideways glance as she spoke up.

"Despite Gallheia's actions, I feel less comfortable about him, Valera. Keep an eye on him. You know how their kind work."

Valera curtsied a bow, this time with actual respect. "Of course Aries. I will bring him to the pit in an hour."

Aries nodded in affirmation before turning on her heel and marching away, ignoring Sygil.

"You should learn to watch your tongue. Your lack of respect will cause you much suffering," snapped Valera coldly.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't exactly help when my hosts aren't being respectful in the first place."

Valera huffed before facing away and resuming her post.

"You know, Valera, I have a question." Valera grunted in annoyance. Sygil continued regardless.

"On one hand I'm, it would seem, disgusting and shouldn't be alive. On the other, I deserve a fair trial? What gives?"

Valera finally relented.

"Make no mistake, mortal. I would much rather see you burn for your sins, but as a prisoner of ours, our tradition calls for a Trial by Combat to prove a prisoner's strength and whether or not they are truly deserving of a warrior’s death. Particularly considering the circumstances of your capture. It is our tradition, and it is only by that tradition that you have any chance at all."

"And what sins would that be? You don't even know me?"

"No. But I know your kind well enough."

Sygil waited for Valera to elaborate, but she didn't. He tried to pry further, but she outright ignored him.

Realising he was going to get nowhere, and that he would be moved out in an hour, he decided to kill time by thinking of what this Trial by Combat might exactly entail. It would likely involve combat of some form, judging by the title, but then again he might be wrong. Some cultures tended to get certain words wrong, giving them a different meaning than their actual.

Deciding that there was nothing to be done for now, he sat in silence and waited for the time to arrive when he would be brought to the Trial.

* * *

He sat alone in his thoughts for what seemed to be nearly an hour, when suddenly the sound of distant voices and chatter woke him from said thoughts. Sitting upright, he listened on with intrigue.

_Sounds like the mobs are gathering for the trial then._

As he sat there, waiting, he could hear approaching footsteps. Looking up with slight interest, one of the tribes-people could be seen conversing with Valera briefly before being dismissed. Not a moment later Valera turned to Sygil, before unlocking the door.

"It's time for your Trial. Don't keep her majesty waiting." She beckoned for him to step out, which he obliged to.

His hands were still tied behind his back, much to his chagrin. However, he didn't voice his complaints.

_It's not like mere rope can keep me bound._

Valera grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the arena.

* * *

After several minutes of walking, aided by the faintest of light provided by the rising sun in the distance, they arrived at the arena.

The arena was a moderately sized dirt pit several centimetres deep and approximately 20 by 20 metres in size. Directly at the end of the pit sat a small elevated stone stage with several stone seats and thrones, upon which sat Gallheia and Aries, accompanied by the same armoured women from atop the temple.

To the sides of the pit were a large gathering of the tribal women, all of which were chattering and cheering.

Valera led him to the centre of the arena, where the chatter became louder and more frantic.

As the duo approached the centre, Gallheia stood up and raised her hand, as if to silence everyone. The chatter died down.

After waiting for several seconds, seemingly building the anticipation from the crowd, Gallheia finally spoke.

"Clanswomen! Before us, is a being that has been captured from inside our very own sacred lands. A trespasser!"

Gallheia paused, looking over everyone in the crowd.

"This being, is none other… than a Man. One of the very beings that our great teachings, provided so generously by the Messengers of God for the prosperity of our clan, has warned us about!"

Small murmurs began anew in the crowd, however Gallheia silenced them with a wave of her hand.

"I understand your concerns. The presence of the enemy within our very walls is disturbing. But, it is also an opportunity for us! To replenish our numbers, and save us having to risk braving their very territory." The crowd seemed to absorb Gallheia's speech like a sponge, but Sygil was much more discerning with the information she was unwittingly providing Sygil.

_So they likely raid other communities? Then they do know of other communities._

"While the thing standing before you in the arena next to one of the glorious Messengers of God is deserving of being drained of its lifeforce so as to help better our clan, it is through the teachings of God, presented by his Messengers, that we are honour-bound to grant it one chance to prove it is deserving of freedom!"

Gallheia continued as some disgruntled opinions started to erupt from the crowd.

"Now, my friends, my devout, loyal friends! Fear not, for the way to earn its freedom, is through demonstrating its strength, if it has any. A Trial by Combat has been arranged for when the first rays on God's light strikes the arena. The Trial will be overseen by the esteemed Messengers of God themselves. This Trial is sanctioned by them, both to honour our tradition as warriors, and to prove that your training has borne fruit; that you are ready to fight!"

By now the disgruntled chatter was starting to morph into cheers.

"Which is why, I have selected amongst your ranks, my Champions to represent and fight this thing as my representative. If it can prove its strength by surviving and defeating all of my selected warriors, then it is a capable warrior." By now, Gallheia was staring directly at Sygil.

Aries stood up to address the crowd and Sygil now.

"As this fight has been sanctioned by my Order, the rules will be stipulated now for the combatants. This fight is to test and prove the physical strength, training and overall warrior prowess of the combatants. Therefore, the use of magic, enchantments and other performance enhancing substitutes is strictly prohibited and considered dishonourable. The combatants are free to use any weapons that are found only in the arena to win. While this is not strictly a fight to the death, and restraint is encouraged, only the strongest may triumph. Therefore, death is an accepted possibility. Neither myself, nor the Order, shall interfere, regardless of the outcome. Fight responsibly, and honourably."

Aries sat back down, and Gallheia nodded slowly in agreement.

"Indeed. Well spoken." She turned back to face the duo in the arena.

"If no-one has anything to say-" "-I do, actually," interjected Sygil.

If looks could kill, the look on everyone's face would have slain him over a thousand times for interrupting Gallheia. Even Gallheia was not impressed, but he continued on.

"All I am interested in is simply my location and where I can find the nearest town or city. We need not devolve into such brutal violence." He maintained a calm and professional visage.

However, he went ignored as Gallheia continued.

"Celestine. Retrieve your weapon and enter the arena with the man. Valera, you may unbind it." As Celestine, one of the women in the crowd he assumed, went to retrieve her gear, Valera untied his hands, allowing him to freely move his arms.

He gave a few experimental stretches and shoulder rolls to warm up his muscles, not that he needed to. Old habits die hard though.

Meanwhile, Valera walked away to where Aries sat, leaving him alone in the arena waiting.

He didn't have to wait long, seconds at most actually, as a woman entered the arena, clad in her ridiculous battle armour as every other tribesperson wore. In her left was a long, narrow sword with a hilt large enough for a two-handed grip. Her animal ears mixed into her brown hair, and her furry tail hung behind her.

A lecherous look was in her eyes as her eyes roamed his body, and he was beginning to doubt it was just sizing up the threat he might potentially pose.

He looked her up and down in a different manner. More coldly and analytically, trying to observe for any weaknesses he could exploit, and by jolly, were there many.

 _This idiot has hardly any armour!_ The woman, Celestine he assumed, had no shoes or footwear at all. She lacked any armour for her legs to enhance the damage behind any attacks she used, nor to protect her from his. Her armoured panties didn't even cover anything vital in her lower torso or legs. Her entire abdomen, save the majority of her breasts, were completely exposed to any of his attacks. Her arms and shoulders had no protective armour whatsoever, and her neck and head lacked any protection save for a basic metal tiara that held her hair back. Not only was she physically vulnerable, but she looked like a fool for going into a fight the way she was dressed.

If he didn't know any better, he would have almost assumed she was roleplaying for some strange, kinky sex act. The only saving grace of hers was her stance, and the fact her sword was long enough to potentially keep him at bay, and likely light enough to swing around. _If_ she even knew how to fight. And judging by her careless appearance, he had his doubts. Still, he would be cautious. He just needed to probe her defences and see how she attacked, and then systematically take her apart.

_These fools want to preach strength? Then I'll give them a demonstration on how I tear their strength apart._

Celestine had a cocky look, as if she was expecting this fight be easy.

 _Another weakness to exploit_.

The sun's rays finally struck the edge of the arena, and Gallheia's voice ran out. "Let the fight begin, and may the strongest fighter win!"

Sygil looked at Gallheia in some confusion.

"Don't I get a weapon to fight with? I thought this was an honourable fight? Where's the honour if one opponent is placed at a disadvantage?" He wasn't really at a disadvantage, but he wanted to see Gallheia's reaction.

Surprisingly, Gallheia actually responded this time, permitting a small smirk to form on her face.

"This is about who is the strongest. If you aren't strong enough to win, then that is your own fault, Human."

It was the first time she actually referred to him as something other than Man or It. Still, he couldn't help but mutter his displeasure at her bias.

"Bitch." The crowd seemed to hear, and began to voice their displeasure and hurtling insult after another. He tuned them out and focused on his opponent who was in a two-handed guard position.

While he could easily materialise a weapon if he wanted to, considering Valera's strength, he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

_Just win the stupid fight and get the information I need._

He didn't bother adopting a stance, particularly as he had no weapon as of yet. However, he already had a target; her sword. He would simply take it from her, but first, he needed to bait an attack out from her to probe. No need to risk getting his suit cut up. Speaking of which, the stupid fool before him just had to make a comment regarding his suit.

"What is hat ridiculous _shit_ you are wearing? It looks disgusting. Are all you _men_ just straight out savages?”

“Considering you live in a literal hut and engage in barbaric practices like a pack of literal animals, I beg to differ on who is actually the _savage_ here,” he shot back.

Celestine seemed to take offense to his bait, and lashed out.

To her credit, she actually did use appropriate finesse and technique as she swung down overhead, adopting an appropriate stance to grant her greater strength and momentum. He sidestepped her strike with ease, however, years of experience and his demonic attributes making her strike seem slower than it actually was.

She compensated with a horizontal sweep to slash his chest open, but he stepped back calmly to avoid being sliced open.

Again, she propelled herself forward to attack him with an overhead diagonal sweep, using the momentum from her previous strikes to assist her. Again, however, he dodged her attack with a sidestep.

The actions barely lasted over a second, a testament to her skill and reactions, likely a product of years of training. However, Sygil noted, she was eager to prove her mettle by striking him down.

She kept slashing at him, attempting to hit him, but he kept dodging and avoiding her attacks, trying to predict her strikes and patterns, if she had any.

 _Her strikes are powerful, and not as wasteful for energy as I hoped. She also has good footwork and balance._ He was somewhat surprised at her coordination. Additionally, she avoided using the same techniques repeatedly. _Guess it shows you can't judge a book by its cover._

Celestine, realising she was having little luck with her strikes, decided to change her style altogether for a style that was more deceptive and did not openly, or as obviously, telegraph her attacks to Sygil.

_She's adapting her style to try and hit me then? Interesting._

While he would have loved to have dodged more of her attacks to find a weakness, after several jabs she came in with an overhead strike that was a little _too_ telegraphed, with her arms arched back fully.

Ultimately, Sygil could not resist the opportunity before him and decided to attack.

Celestine's body was left exposed, and he capitalised on the opportunity, rushing forward with a hard punch to her stomach with his left hand, while his right hand went into the air to intercept her hands from her sword strike. The result was instantaneous.

As she brought her strike in, his right hand intercepted and wrapped her right wrist, whilst the haymaker he delivered keeled her over with an audible gasp.

Now that he was holding her sword at bay, he turned his body so his back was directly pressed in her chest, allowing him to extend her right arm into an armbar and, with his strength, potentially hyperextend said arm.

She seemed to acknowledge what he was attempting, and tried to switch her sword to her left hand, but he was prepared, bringing his left hand under her left arm to grab her sword hilt and wrest control from it.

His strength overpowered hers, though for a mortal it was still impressive. However, he wasn't finished with her yet.

As he finished wresting control of the sword with his left hand and held her right at bay, he brought the heel of his left foot sharply into her left foot in an attempt to crush her toes that she foolishly had exposed with her lack of decent armour.

She grunted in pain, but struggled to hold on. Her grip on the sword was weakened, however, and to finish, he smashed the back of his head into the bridge of her nose, getting a muffled cry of pain from her. That was enough to finally force her to let go, and he rapidly broke free and spun away from her, using the carried momentum of his spin to knock her off of her feet with a sweep from his leg.

She crashed onto the ground, and before she could even fully land on her back, her very sword was pointed at her throat by Sygil.

"Yield. You've lost," ordered Sygil. Celestine glared at him. However, his victory was short-lived as Gallheia beckoned with her hands and called out several more names.

"Broder, Ilhain, and Jaisa. Enter the arena." The three warriors obliged, and entered the arena, circling Sygil with their weapons brandished.

 _I thought there was meant to be one opponent?_ Sygil narrowed his eyes at Gallheia who seemed to be smirking slightly more.

* * *

Aries was not the only one having doubts as she leaned over to Gallheia and whispered forcefully.

"He won against his opponent. What are you doing? Are you trying to test my patience Gallheia!"

"Of course not. This fight is sanctioned as you decreed," Gallheia calmly retorted.

"It's supposed to be an honourable fight between two combatants. You stated so when you decided your champion!" Hissed Aries.

"And it is an honourable fight between its _opponents_ ," replied Gallheia coyly, emphasising the plural.

* * *

Sygil stared at his new opponents. They were dressed, for the most part, similarly to the rest of their clan, though he did spot two actually wearing leather greaves and boots alongside matching vambraces.

 _Actual protection. Shocking_.

One of the women was twirling a two-headed battleaxe, whilst another had a pike. The third had a bastard-sword and small oval shield, held in a defensive stance.

He kept his sword trained on Celestine as the other three circled him, however, it was Celestine who made the first move, swatting his sword and leaping up underneath to tackle him.

The sheer force and speed of the attack caught him off balance and he fell to the ground with Celestine straddled on top of him.

He kept his grip on his sword, however, as Celestine tried to wrestle it from him. The other three kept their distance as Celestine savagely tried to reclaim her sword, her hair a tangled mess of dirt and blood from her still leaking and disfigured nose.

Sygil, however, didn't care, and placing his free hand on her face to keep her at bay, he swung his sword with considerable strength into her head.

He tried to be conscious of using the sharp edge, opting for the flat of the blade instead. The force was enough to topple her off of him immediately, and he wasted no time reversing their positions.

By now, he was the one straddling her, and he wasted no time bringing the pommel of the sword into her face with a sickening crack.

The blow rendered her limp as consciousness left her, her face already starting to swell and leak more blood as he stood up.

The other three wasted no in charging forth as a group, and the crowd went silent at the spectacle before them.

Sygil parried the sword strike from one of the warriors. While his blade was locked, the pike-woman thrust at him. He responded by sidestepping the thrust, grabbing the pike pole with his free hand to immobilise the weapon, resulting in tense tug of war with the pike remaining stationary due to his strength.

The axe-wielder, seeing an opportunity came swinging overhead with a warcry.

Seeing the telegraphed swing from miles away, he twisted his body to tug the pike in his direction so he could use it to intercept the axe strike.

A resounding clang of weapons clashing could be heard.

The sword-wielder wasted no time breaking the lock of blades to spin and perform a horizontal slash at his exposed stomach, but he brought the sword in time to deflect the strike.

The axe-wielder, however, raised her axe to do another overhead swing. Realising his opponents were too close for his comfort, before the axe-wielder could strike, he let go of the pike and swung his sword into the exposed midriff of the axe-wielder, with the flat of his sword smacking loudly across her stomach.

She let out an audible oof as she collapsed to her knees, doubled over in pain.

He wasted no time in turning to deflect a sword strike from the other woman, locking his longer sword under hers. She tried to react with a shield-bash, however, before she could hit him, he twisted his sword to disarm her of hers, sending it flying as he closed the gap and swung at her exposed neck, the flat of the blade connecting harshly and painfully. The strike sent her collapsing to the ground, shooting pain into her neck.

The pike-woman thrust at him while his back was exposed, but he grabbed the pike before pulling it in close in what resembled an arm-bar, extending her arms and body.

Before she could react, he shoved the pike back into her stomach, the blunt end striking her in her exposed stomach.

She coughed loudly as she doubled over, but he wasn't finished.

As her grip on the pike slackened, he closed the distance, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in close before his and her body so he held her from behind with his sword pressed tightly against her throat.

The whole sequence lasted no more than ten seconds, and the crowd was left floored at the proficiency and skill he displayed in taking down each of the combatants.

"Consider this a lesson on why you should wear actual armour to protect you. I'm in a position to slit the missies throat here, I could have cut open the other's guts since she has no body armour to speak of, and I could have decapitated the other one."

Aries looked on with interest, slightly impressed by the skill and finesse he displayed.

He, however, focused his attention on Gallheia specifically.

* * *

**\- Recommended Song: Frank's Choice - The Punisher Soundtrack -**

* * *

"I bested your combatants. And I kept them alive as a show of good faith." He shoved his 'hostage' away to the ground. "How about you return the favour by letting me go and telling me where I can find the nearest city or town?"

It was silent, and everyone waited for Gallheia's response, even the combatants that were nursing their wounds. And then, she finally spoke, a cruel smirk across her face.

"My warriors are more than capable of fighting you; if this were a real fight, you would be dead now."

Sygil deadpanned, before he hissed out in disbelief. Gallheia continued, however.

"Besides, the fight is far from over. You still have to face all of my warriors," she smirked.

Sygil narrowed his eyes, while Aries realised what Gallheia was doing. She was helpless, however, as Gallheia continued.

"The rules of the fight are clear. I never stated how many warriors you have to fight. If it takes this entire clan to fight you, then so be it, but you are not leaving."

 _You cheating, lying, bitch….._ It would be hypocritical for him to claim he had never, in all of his years, taken advantage of a contract or bent it to his will, but the fact it was this condescending bitch of all people to do it against him, made him furious.

"I see then," he said calmly, maintain his composure externally as he tightened his grip on the sword. The combatants, save for Celestine who was out cold, were now standing up with their weapons raised, ready to go again.

Gallheia continued to smirk at him, making him further furious.

"You see, I was willing to play your little pathetic game to get what I wanted, but you want to cheat and bend the rules to suit you. You want to lie to me."

He stared up at Gallheia, his voice starting to seethe with anger, "Give me a location, or I’ll treat you to a Columbian necktie as I hang your skinned corpse from that fucking stone lodge you call a temple."

"I don't have to do anything, _Human_ ," she sneered at him.

"Then if you won't play by your own rules, I don't have to either."

There was silence as the combatants stared at Sygil; as the crowd stared at Sygil…. as Gallheia and Aries stared at Sygil. And then, he moved.

He moved at such speed, it was almost impossible to track with the naked eye.

However, he moved with a purpose, a target in mind, bladed extended forward.

Before Ilhain could react or parry with her pike, he was upon her, and this time, there was no mercy.

Sygil's blade plunged deep into her throat, cutting off her gurgled screams. Broder was the first to react, and swung her battle axe with an overhead strike to cleave Sygil in two. Sygil, however, responded by grabbing Ilhain's shoulder and twisting her body to block the strike, cutting more of her throat open in the process.

Broder's axe collided into Ilhain's body, cutting deep into her sternum. Before she could pull it out, Sygil spun around with his sword, decapitating Ilhain's head, sending it flying into the air as if it grew legs to jump up with.

Broder didn't have time to deal with Sygil's attack, his carried momentum bringing him to bear on her axe-wielding arms with a heavy downward strike.

Broder screamed in pain as Sygil cut both her hands off above the wrist, causing her to stumble back.

Sygil, however, wasn't finished, and without changing position, rammed his sword in an upwards motion following the strike into her exposed belly.

The blade entered at her exposed belly-button and protruded from the side of her neck with such violent force she either died or lost consciousness from the shock alone.

The squelching sound of steel piercing flesh and viscera could be heard by everyone.

Jaisa woke herself from her stupor and shock as she realised Sygil had killed two of her allies in mere seconds. Realising the fight was still on, she charged at Sygil, shield at her side and sword held close to stab him in his exposed back.

Sygil was faster, however. With quick reactions and strength, he tore the sword out of Broder with a loud tearing sound as viscera, bone and cartilage were torn through, spraying blood everywhere. The sword was free, and as Jaisa closed the gap quickly with intent to skewer him, he swung high and hard overhead while twisting his body to intercept her.

Jaisa barely had time to bring her shield up to stop the attack, which was much stronger than she anticipated. The shield formed a large crack under the strike, rendering it borderline useless. However, Jaisa wasn't in the clear yet. As quickly as he had struck her shield, he pulled the sword off and redirected a horizontal swing to bisect her, which she just barely parried.

A clash of steel could be heard as their blades locked for a second, but Sygil quickly overpowered her, twisting his sword underneath hers and attempting to disarm her.

While he failed in flicking her sword away, he did manage to pull her sword hand away, leaving her completely exposed. Something that he capitalised on completely without hesitation.

He barely exposed her when he spun around for another horizontal slash to bisect her.

To Jaisa's credit, she was smart enough to jump backwards out of the way to avoid getting cut, except the sword was too long and Sygil was too close.

While he failed in completely bisecting her, the sword did slice cleanly across her stomach, leaving a deep, thin red line in its wake, alongside the all-too-familiar sound of flesh being sliced.

Sygil held his sword out to the side like a composer, watching as Jaisa stood there for a second, a faint gurgle being heard as her wound started to become wider and wider with blood, until suddenly the bloody internal entrails and viscera from inside her started to leak out. The first to fall out was her intestines, slopping onto the ground, followed by Jaisa collapsing onto her side unceremoniously, blood pooling underneath her.

Everyone stood silent and speechless, shocked at the speed, efficiency and brutality which Sygil used to dispatch his opponents.

" _This_ is why you wear _proper_ armour into a battle. So it can _prevent_ you getting killed like _this_ ," he gestured to the bloodsoaked corpses lying on the ground, lecturing Gallheia and the crowd slowly as if they were ignorant children.

Gallheia looked at him with wide-eyed shock, mouth slightly agape, before she promptly closed it and her features morphed into a snarl.

Her voice rang out to the other warriors in the crowd, calling forth their names to combat him. He paid it no heed however, as he was prepared to slaughter anyone else that would dare cross his path.

Several of the women in the crowd started brandishing weapons they had on their person as they began to enter the arena, however, he didn't grant them a chance.

They were physically between him and Gallheia, and if they were foolish enough to get in his way, then their life was forfeit.

A woman charged him with a large knife, and he wasted no time in flicking his sword across to relieve her of her knife-hand, sending blood flying as she screamed.

He silenced her screams with a quick slash across her chest, sending her flying backwards.

Another came rushing at him, but dodged under her sword thrust, bringing his own under into her torso, impaling her to the hilt.

Just as quickly as he stabbed her, he pulled the sword out with a loud squelch, before turning to parry a third warriors overhead axe strike, spinning around underneath to deliver a nasty swing with tremendous strength; enough to bisect the poor warrior in half.

However, with all of the swords repeated use and considerable strength he wielded, it was only inevitable the sword would begin to give in.

It was not a broadsword, nor was it heavy enough in its design to afford slicing through bone. And Sygil could feel it as the blade started to lose its sharpened edge, becoming duller and duller.

It could still serve a purpose, but with the swarm of enemies before him, it was time to retire the blade and bring out his own.

Two of the women tried to flank him on both sides, whilst another rushed him with a sword.

He brought the blade up to parry another sword strike from a different assailant, twisting the blade to lock the two swords at the hilt.

He released one of his hands from the sword to grab his opponents sword hilt, before delivering a solid kick to her gut, knocking her back and granting him control of two swords now; one in each hand.

As the two warriors flanking him rushed to him, he thrust both swords to the opposite side, his arms crossing as a result.

The swords impaled both targets in the abdomen, their lack of armour leaving them to the mercy of cold, hard steel.

As the woman before him that he had kicked away regained her footing, he charged forwards, slashing the two swords out from them, spraying blood everywhere as he closed the gap.

By the time he reached her, his swords had already formed an X with the force he used, an X which was now around her throat, though not for very much longer.

He finished his outward slash of the two blades, cutting open her throat and leaving her to tumble backwards, clutching the bleeding wound as she gurgled out in pain.

He ignored her, however, focusing on a new target in his way.

He didn't wait the next person in his way to attack, opting for being offensive instead. And so he charged the next warrior before him, ramming both blades into her chest, avoiding what little armour she did wear.

He didn't even have to be precise in his aim, as the large exposed surfaces of flesh were an open target for him to inflict grievous injuries upon.

* * *

Gallheia seemed to realise that the human before her was stronger than she thought, judging by the way he was tearing through her warriors.

Internally, she was starting to panic, becoming furious at what would appear to be an inevitable loss of the human before her.

"No…." she snarled gutturally. Aries cast her a questioning look, but otherwise focused on the fight occurring in the arena.

Gallheia, however, was not willing to lose her warriors based on some mere tradition that Aries wanted her to uphold.

She reached into her cloak, pulling forth the ring that the human before her had been relieved of.

When she was given the ring earlier, she had examined it and was shocked to find out it was a powerful, high tier item. What purpose it held, she didn't know, but for the human to have it in his possession, it likely knew it was worth a lot. Either it was something valuable to it due to its power, or could hold some value if sold off at a _human_ settlement. She wanted to scoff at the thought of such an item being bartered for mere coins.

 _Disgusting human pigs; only they would do something so selfish and stupid._ No, such a treasure should be kept at the temple and be used with thought and care, and only by certain individuals.

Still, perhaps it would be enough to call off the human seeing as it was easily decimating her warriors, and Aries, the damned bitch, wasn't doing anything to stop the human!

"Aries! Stop that thing!"

Aries shot her eyes over to Gallheia. "I'm sorry, your majesty, but the rules you stipulated that we, my Order and I, specifically adhere to were that we were _not_ to interfere, regardless of the outcome."

Gallheia was fuming.

"Aries! This is a direct order!"

"It is a sanctioned fight. You called everyone forth as a combatant to the mortal man, and he is proving to be more than a match. Unless he were to engage non-combatants or you yourself, we cannot interfere."

Gallheia didn't ignore the slightly satisfied expression on Aries face when she said that, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Aries was a stickler for her tradition and her Order.

Though, perhaps not all was lost.

She tried to ignore the sounds of flesh being sliced, steel clashing, and bodies falling.

Reaching into her robes, she could feel the ring she wanted, it was in her hand!

Pulling it out, she was greeted with a simple, yet elegant gold ring with an inscription engraved on its side in a language she wasn't familiar with.

She only stared at the ring temporarily, before steeling herself, slipping the ring on her left index finger.

If Aries and her Order wouldn't stop this thing from killing her people, then she would.

Perhaps it was foolish of her to attempt to use a magical item when she had no idea what it would entail, but she was the decreed leader of her clan! It was bound to work due to her royal heritage!

All she needed to do was wave the ring it would work - ?

_Why is nothing happening?!_

She flourished her ring hand again, but nothing happened. Sure, she could feel the slight swelling of magical power inside the ring, but that was all.

_No! You will obey me!_

Except, the ring didn’t.

_Fine. If you won’t work, and Aries won’t fight, then I’ll have to do it myself._

And she had just the perfect spell in mind.

Standing up, she called out in an authoritative voice to the human still slaughtering her people.

"HUMAN! That is enough!"

* * *

Sygil was just about to decapitate an armless warrior currently on her knees before him with a small battleaxe he had relieved from another slain animal-warrior, when Gallheia's voice rang out.

He stopped midswing, and retorted back.

"Only if you grant me what I want. Seeing as you aren’t…."

He finished his swing, relieving the warrior of her head, before standing upright to face Gallheia.

Gallheia had to resist flinching at the execution before she continued.

"Stand down, my people. There is no point in contending with this brutish ape."

Sygil looked nonplussed at the insult.

Gallheia stood up to look down upon Sygil.

"As reluctant as I am to admit this, you have bested many of my warriors, so I will grant you an opportunity – " Sygil cut her off, however.

"Unless you will tell me where I can find the nearest _civilised_ city or town, then my answer is no."

Gallheia grit her teeth in anger at his insolence, but he didn't care.

Gallheia did, however, as she levelled her ring hand at him with a snarl.

"Then I hope you burn in hell, human."

She could feel the power of her 3rd Tier magic swelling upon command as she readied her spell. She was the leader of this clan, not just because of her royal blood, but because of her affinity with Tier magic. And she'd be damned if she was going to let this insolent Human test her.

She felt the power building up, she just needed a few more seconds. Except, Sygil wasn’t interested in theatrics as he hefted the small axe in his right hand to test the weight.

Before anyone could react, he pulled the axe behind his shoulder for heavy throw, putting much of his strength, demonic included, into it. And then he threw it.

The axe soared in the air towards her head with perfect aim and incredible speed. She had no hope of dodging or deflecting it. Her spell wasn’t even ready!

Except, the axe bounced off of something with a loud clang; a sign of steel hitting steel.

_What the hell!_

Sygil was surprised at the speed with which Aries moved and drew her sword to deflect the axe. Not only did she save Gallheia, but she stood as if she didn't register the impact on her sword.

It was as if he threw an object at a wall and it bounced off with no effect. And considering the strength he put into the through, for Aries to deflect it with such ease was alarming. Only a higher entity being such as an Angel could deflect it. Was she….?

Sygil didn't have time to ponder as Aries stood erect and began to descend down the steps whilst addressing him.

Meanwhile, Gallheia felt her heart racing as she narrowly avoided death. The sudden attack caused her to lose focus on her spell, and were it not for Aries, she would have certainly been killed.

"While your strength is impressive mortal man, you have broken the rules of the Trial."

Gallheia regained her senses as she realised how close she had brushed with death. Aries continued coldly.

"It is dishonourable to attack a ruler in such a cowardly manner," and Gallheia allowed herself to smirk. Aries was going to punish this foolish Human now. Except….

The sound of a sword being drawn caught Gallheia's attention. Even more-so as she felt the blade pressed against her throat. And everyone's attention was drawn once the voice spoke.

"I couldn't agree more. So get away from the Supreme Being, you filthy demi-humans!" A cold, sharp voice rang out in the arena as everyone turned to where Gallheia was seated, petrified with fear.

Sygil couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Standing to the left of Gallheia with a sword drawn against her throat, was none other than –

_Maxmillian?!_

Aries, alongside her order and everyone else turned to face the intruder with weapons drawn, but he simply pressed the blade tighter against Gallheia's throat.

"Ah ah ah!" Tutted the uniformed NPC given life.

"Lower your weapons and back away from Lord Sygil, or I’ll relieve this demi-human’s head," sneered Maxmillian.

Meanwhile, Gallheia was internally freaking out. _Where in the hell did this intruder come from!_

While everyone was stunned, Sygil strode forth up the stairs, but Aries moved to block him.

"Don't take a step closer!" She warned. Maxillian tightened the pressure on his sword, drawing some blood from Gallheia's throat. Gallheia took the hint, and called out to Aries and everyone else.

"Lower your weapons and let it go, Aries!"

Aries was reluctant to, and felt conflicted.

 _Fucking coward!_ Both Sygil and Aries, unknowingly, had the exact same thought concerning Gallheia.

Sygil, however, remained wary of Aries, and even the rest of her Order. He hadn't seen them fight, but the few displays of strength he was privy to were concerning. He didn't want to risk getting in over his head potentially, so he stopped where he was and began to speak to Gallheia whilst watching Aries cautiously, ready to summon his hounds, spiked chain and sabre in the event he needed to.

"You know what I want Gallheia, so I am not going to bother asking," he contemptuously spoke to her.

He was confused about Maxmillian being here, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not right now, anyways.

Gallheia managed to stutter out a response with the sword pressed tightly against her airway.

"There's a human settlement not too far from here!" Her voice sounded raspy and hoarse with the blade pressed against her throat, but he didn't care. Neither did Maxmillian.

"Where," asked Sygil sharply.

"About a day's travel to the east of the forest, near the edge in some plains. You can't miss it!"

Sygil allowed a predatory smile to form on his face. "See. That wasn't so hard, now. Was it."

Gallheia, alongside Aries and everyone else save for Maxmillian, just glared daggers at him. Gallheia for being humiliated, Aries for the lack of honour, and everyone else for the seeming injustice wrought upon their 'great leader'.

"And the name of this settlement?" He prompted.

"I don't know, Human!" Hissed Gallheia. That, was apparently the wrong thing to say, however, as Maxmillian pressed his sword much more firmly, beginning to cut deeper into the flesh.

Sygil, however, waved a wand.

"I need her alive, Maxmillian. For now." Mamxillian released the pressure, whilst Aries somehow narrowed her eyes even further.

Realising that she shouldn't test her own luck, Gallheia was more eager to provide a name this time.

"Merigold. That's the name of the settlement! Now, release me at – " "Are there any other settlements nearby?"

The blade against her throat prevented her from retorting back. So instead she answered honestly.

"I don't know!" She was beginning to sound desperate at this stage.

"Well do you at least have a map?" Sygil was beginning to sound not too impressed.

"No! Now, let me go!"

Sygil stared at her impassively. "And why should I believe you?"

"Because you need me to let you leave alive!"

"Actually," chuckled Sygil, "I don't. You need ME in order to stay alive. I am more than capable of fighting my way out of here at my own leisure. You, however, are currently experiencing death breathing over your shoulder, and you know it too."

Gallheai felt her eyes widen. However, it was the truth, and she knew it. So she relented.

"Everyone stand down. They’re allowed to leave unhindered."

Sygil smiled darkly as he stepped up into Gallheia's face, his sabre pointed downwards.

He leaned and whispered to her.

"Don’t try to follow me. Don’t even think of trying anything with me, or I’ll return and finish the job, and make good on my threat. And if you’re lying…”

He let the threat sink in as he stepped back and began to walk away casually, everyone giving him a wide berth.

"Come, Maxmillian."

Maxmillian looked after Sygil, before facing Gallheia, a sneer plastered on his face.

Gallheia felt the blade slightly tighten around her throat as he reached over to her hand and plucked the ring off of her finger.

She was too absorbed with genuine fear to notice or feel the ring being ripped off of her finger, nor did she notice Maxmillian pull the sword away and follow Sygil.

Aries moved to put herself between Gallheia and Maxmillian as he walked away.

As Sygil was walking away from the arena, he called out back to Gallheia without looking.

"Oh, by the way? Try and invest in some actual armour for your warriors next time. You might avoid this sort of situation happening again. Just a friendly tip."

And with that, he left with Maxmillian behind him.

* * *

They both trudged for what seemed like several hours in silence in the forest, heading in the direction to which a human settlement was so generously provided.

As they walked, Sygil's mind was a whirlwind of activity following the events that happened back earlier.

_What the fuck is going on? Why is Maxmillian here in the real world? And how did Aries deflect my attack aimed at Gallheia with such speed and strength? Why is the Ring of Creation from Yggdrasil here even? And where in the world am I that animal people exist?_

These were but a few examples of the thoughts that were going through his mind as he walked. Maxmillian, however, kept silent, dutifully following his creator without question. He had returned the ring immediately back to Sygil, who had taken it back without saying much, but he didn't care. To be of service to the Supreme Being was the greatest honour one could be bestowed.

By now, it was mid after-noon, and they could see the edge of the forest up ahead. It was now, that Maxmillian decided to speak to Sygil.

"Sir, I may ask, what are your plans once we reach the human settlement of Merigold?"

Sygil had become desensitised to Maxmillian's presence in the real world, so he didn't act surprised when Maxmillian spoke.

"First, find where in the world we are. From there, head to the nearest safehouse to begin planning."

"Planning for what, sir?" Maxmillian was genuinely curious.

Sygil merely pursed his lips as he neared closer to the edge of the forest.

"One step at a time Maxmillian."

Maxmillian nodded in affirmation as they finally came to the edge of the forest. Just outside of it, they could see a wide expanse of slightly hilly plains. Even larger, however, was the expanse of crops of produce, which Sygil was unable to identify at this stage nor distance, though it resembled wheat.

In the farther distance, they could both make out several large houses that were several stories high, their white painted wooden and stone walls standing out from afar.

Sygil gestured to the buildings.

"There, I assume, is our town of Merigold."

Maxmillian nodded, and they stepped out of the woods and began to approach the town.

As they got closer, Sygil began to notice some things that did not seem quite right.

For starters, the dirt path was quite narrow, and he couldn't see any connecting roads nearby. There were also no automobiles, telephone poles, light-poles, etc. Instead, there were a couple unlit lanterns held up by wooden posts, a stable and several horse-drawn carriages and wagons. In essence, there was nothing to indicate the town was a modern-day town like Sygil expected and hoped for.

What made it worse were the people when they entered the town finally. They were dressed like peasants from the 14th century, albeit, at least not as dirty. Simple plain clothing, such as work dresses or smocks and cheap clothes, appeared to be normal attire.

There was a patrol of armoured knights approaching them. Yes, knights. They had medieval armour, swords, pikes, shields, the whole nine yards.

"Why does this make me feel like we are in another world," muttered Sygil despondently as the knights ordered them to halt.

Maxmillian responded to his rhetorical question. "This place does not feel like Yggdrasil. I daresay, this might be a new world we are in."

_A new world to you maybe since you come from a bloody video game._

Sygil shook his head slowly as he mused quietly. _Still though… A new world, huh. It sure feels like it._

* * *

Aries was in the temple rooms, having overseen the burial of the slain warriors in the Trial earlier today, when she heard footsteps enter.

The temple rooms were off-limits except to her and the Order, and of course Gallheia. Speaking of whom.

"Aries. I want to have a quick word with you right now, now that the mess that human created has been cleaned up."

Aries turned to face Gallheia, and the sight before her made her stiffen her posture instinctively.

Gallheia was standing there, no change in her attire. However, in her left hand, she held a dark staff with barely visible intricate flame patterns throughout it.

The sight of the staff made her want to shudder. 

Galleia stepped forth into the illuminated room while Aries stood still and visibly emotionless and stoic.

She stopped mere inches before Aries, looking her square in the eyes coldly.

"While I respect and will always do my best to adhere to the traditions you and your order have provided my clan, _I_ am the leader here. You do as I say. You seem to have forgotten your place."

She leaned in to Aries ear, speaking harshly.

"If you ever try to subvert my control like you did earlier today, EVER again, one of your Order members will have to 'return' back to heaven. Are we clear."

It was an order, not a question. Aries replied respectfully. "Of course your majesty. It was never my intention to overstep such boundaries. Forgive me." Aries dipped her head down as if to bow.

Gallheia allowed a smile to form on her face, pleased.

Aries didn't attempt to block the strike from the staff, all too well aware of what would happen if she resisted her punishment.

The strike from the staff wasn't even that hard, but it was the staff itself that was so painful; its reaction to an entity such as herself.

Aries lay there, her face contorted in pain as Gallheia began to walk out of the room. Just as she was about to exit the doorway, she stopped to look over her shoulder.

"Apology accepted."

And with that, Gallheia was gone. Aries forced herself to stand up, clutching her exposed shoulder where the staff had hit her.

A large ugly burn-like injury could be seen on her shoulder, showing between her fingers. Aries allowed a grimace to form on her face.

_This is all my fault._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, concerning the rewrite, I have done mostly dialogue edits. I also deleted several redundant sentences that I felt were a case of tell rather than show.  
> The fight scenes are largely unchanged, except a slight tweak near the end concerning Gallheia using the ring. Instead, she opts for her Tier Magic, because it makes more sense since she is ore familiar with that then a random ring she has noclue about.  
> I also mostly removed all of the Mortal Man Schtick, and instead used it sparingly, and even then, tried to refrain.  
> Next chapter will be out tomorrow, and so will the rewrite on FFN.net hopefully.  
> Peace maties!


	9. Welcome to the New World (Pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

**Welcome to the New World (Pt. 2)**

"Halt, stranger!"

The voice of one of the armoured knights rang out loud and clear as Sygil and Maxmillian came to a stop.

There were five knights, decked out in full suits of body armour, with full-face helmets that concealed their facial identity.

"State your name and business, stranger." The leader of the patrol stepped forth, wearing more pronounced and ornate armour. The voice sounded male.

Maxmillian tensed up, his face tightening to contort in anger at the knight's insolence.

"The Lord's business is none of your concern, you miserable – " Sygil quickly cut him off before he could say anything to further cause trouble, judging by the way the knights were beginning to bristle.

"My name is Sygil, and this is my compatriot Maxmillian. Please do ignore his anger, we had a recent encounter with some less-than-savoury people earlier and we are little on edge. We would just like a place to temporarily stay and rest for the day, and then we will be on our way."

His words seemed to do little to assuage the knights, especially the ones that were resting their hands on their sword hilts, ready for a quick draw and fight.

Sygil attempted his most passive diplomatic face, and spoke reassuringly. "Please. I can assure you. We have no ill intent and our claims are genuine." Meanwhile inside, however, Sygil was questioning more of the absurdity he was faced with.

 _Why is there a patrol people that look ripped straight out of a medieval fantasy?_ By now, he had more questions than answers, and the way things were headed, they were not looking as promising as he wanted them to be.

The lead knight tilted his head to look both Sygil and Mamxillian up and down, sizing them for any threats they might pose, taking note of the blood and dirt on Sygils suit.

"Is that so? And who were these, 'less-than-savoury' people?" There was a slight edge to the knight's voice, and some of the other knights could be seen to fan out to form a semi-circle.

Neither Sygil nor Maxmillian liked what was going on.

"Some simple thugs, that's all," answered Sygil cautiously, careful not to let any undesirable emotions betray his features.

"And what happened to these thugs, pray tell? Because if you have led them here…." The warning was clear as a bell, and Sygil acted natural.

"No. They won't be following me or my compatriot. At least, if they know what is good for them." He didn't want to say that he had straight out murdered a bunch of anthropomorphic women dressed in ridiculous attire after they tried to capture and possibly rape him. He didn't know how the 'knights' would react to that. They would probably dismiss his claims or try to hinder him in some way, and he had things to do.

The lead knight seemed to scrutinise him and Maxmillian for a moment, before he finally snorted in amusement. "Hmmpf. Well, that's reassuring to hear, I suppose. I guess introductions are in order. The name's Cain, and I head the security around here. Any troubles, and my forces and I deal with it. While I would like to say welcome to Merigold, I don't know you or your... _compatriot_ , well enough to say so. We don't exactly like the local populace walking around with weapons," Cain gestured to Maxmillian's military sabre he had sheathed, "so I'm going to need you to hand over any weapons on your person."

Cain seemed to notice the unimpressed look on Sygil's face and the way Maxmillian's eyes narrowed further.

Cain waved his hands placatingly. "Now, now. It's just a safety precaution. Here in Merigold, you're safe and sound. But, with people, especially strangers, walking around town with weapons on their person, it makes the people a little concerned."

Before Maxmillian could throw a retort, Sygil spoke up. "While I can understand and even respect the sentiment, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Cain seemed to fake amusement.

"Maxmillian and I are party of the military, so for us to part with any means to defend ourselves would be a disgrace to our honour. As a fellow soldier, you understand, correct?"

Cain seemed less certain now, apparently willing to buy the bullshit Sygil was feeding him.

"Is that so. I was not aware of a military detail being present this far south," Cain sounded sceptical.

"We are part of an escort detail, and we ended up getting separated from the rest of the unit, unfortunately," lied Sygil. He didn't want to provide too much information. Things were already appearing to be quite strange and suspicious.

Cain seemed willing to voluntarily fill in the gaps of Sygil's lie.

"And your run-in in the forest with these 'thugs' you speak of? This caused your unit to be disbanded?"

Maxmillian seemed to understand what was going on, and spoke up to provide more information.

"That is correct. Right now we are trying to regroup and regain our bearings."

Sygil was impressed at Maxmillian's ingenuity in successfully contributing to the questioning.

"Really? I don't recall your uniform being standard issue, soldier? What unit are you part of."

Sygil couldn't believe his luck. This idiot was making things difficult. He just wanted to know where he was to get to the nearest safehouse of his. And he needed to do this with people preferably alive. Firstly, for the information itself, and secondly, because he didn't want to leave a bigger bloodbath trail for Asphaestus to potentially follow than he had already left in the forest.

Maxmillian responded to Cain's question coldly, hand resting on the hilt of his own sabre.

"That is a need-to-know basis."

There seemed to be a tense standoff between the two parties, until suddenly, a jovial, and portly voice rang out.

"Now, my, my! What seems to be the issue people! Surely we can all be civilised and get along with each other?"

Sygil shot his eyes to the right to see the newcomer.

A short, plump man in wealthy attire, reminiscent of a southern plantation owner during 18th century America, approached them.

He had a rather exaggerated moustache, clean-shaven sides, and a thinning head of hair.

_Is this the guy from Monopoly minus the tophat?_

Cain was quick to respond.

"Of course, sir, but only if others are willing to get along with us." Sygil could tell it was a pointed accusation at Maxmillian and him.

"Now, now. From what I can tell, these two gentlemen are hungry, and tired. We'd make poor hosts to refuse them." The newcomer seemed cartoonishly happy, and that made Sygil sceptical.

Cain seemed annoyed at the newcomers statement. "With all due respect-" the newcomer cut him off.

"Come now, Cain, they have things they need to do, things they can't do with you holding them back."

Cain seemed to want to dispute, but held back his tongue. Sygil, however, caught the angry mutterings of Cain under his helmet.

" _Dumb bastard, this is what you pay me to do…."_

 _Interesting_ , thought Sygil. _He is under the employ of this stranger?_

"I can take over our guests from here, Cain. You and your posse may return to your duties."

"And their weapons?" Began Cain in dispute of the stranger.

"You heard them, they are soldiers. They may keep them on them." The newcomer dismissed him with a smile.

Sygil couldn't see Cain's face, but imagined it was one akin to annoyance.

Cain faced Maxmillian coldly. "Your weapon is to remain sheathed at all times. Am I understood." And with that, Cain and his knights left to patrol elsewhere.

The newcomer strode forth slowly.

"I do apologise for Cain. He can sometimes take his duties quite seriously, but he means well." The newcomer put forth his hand to Maxmillian to shake.

"The name's Beovhan. Beovhan Augustus. And welcome, to Merigold!"

Maxmillian deadpanned Beovhan unimpressed, so Sygil took over, shaking his hand. "Likewise. I hate to be a bother, but could you be so kind as to point us to where we can get a map, paper preferably."

Beovhan quirked an eyebrow. "But of course it would be paper, what else would it be? Human skin?! Please, we're not like those savages that surround us. We are civilised. There's a cartographer, just down the main street. There, you will find all your needs, ranging from inns and bars for the finest food and lodging we offer to travellers, as well as all your essential needs!"

Sygil was somewhat taken aback by Beovhan's eagerness to help him.

"I can also set you up with some more, 'exotic' places to relax, if you wish. Merigold is prosperous for a reason, after all! We cater to all your needs."

"Thank-you, Mr. Augustus," replied Sygil warmly.

"Oh please, Beovhan is just fine. Once you're done, please do remember to stop by my place at the end of Main Street. I would be delighted to take you on board!"

_This guy's a little too enthusiastic._

Sygil played it cool, though, and went along with the flow. "Of course, Mr. Beovhan, I thank you for you offer, but I am not interested in a long-term stay here. Maxmillian and I need to leave by the morning."

"Oh, I see. Well, be sure to drop by anyways once you're done. I run this place, so perhaps I can be of assistance. You can't miss my place, it's the biggest building of them all!"

With that, Beovhan walked away.

Maxmillian looked at Sygil who was watching the retreating form of Beovhan. Sygil finally spoke up.

"That man is way too cheery. Something's up with him." He pursed his lips, giving one final glance to the direction Beovhan disappeared to.

"Let's go. And try not to cause any more trouble than needed. Please."

Maxmillian nodded. "Of course sir."

* * *

As the duo walked through the town, Sygil's mind was a whir, trying to piece things together. Too many things seemed out of place. _Like a bloody fantasy._

As far as the map was concerned, why would he need a cartographer. _It's not like we are in the middle ages._

Ignoring Beovhan's terminology, he decided to just find this 'cartographer' for a map. He wasn't intending to buy one. He just needed a quick glance to orient himself.

"There's the cartography place ahead, sir," reported Maxmillian, pointing out the painfully obvious to Sygil. He refused to comment on it, however.

The cartography building was several buildings ahead to the left, connected to many other buildings, or rather large houses. The houses looked equivalent to some of the old inns he had seen back in Scotland and Britain back in the day, though the architecture was different in parts, incorporating designs from other civilisations. He didn't know which ones specifically, however, as it wasn't his forte or area of expertise.

Sygil opened the wooden door, and was greeted with a small room with a counter directly in front. A mix of glass and wooden shelves rested on either side of the counter. Leaning on said counter from behind, was an older man, portly in shape with what appeared to be a white butcher's smock. Said man was completely bald, with no facial hair whatsoever. His facial features were worn from both age and the sun.

Upon closing the door, Sygil hoped the man would look up from leaning on the bench to acknowledge him. Alas, that was not the case.

Sygil and Mamxillian walked towards the counter, and Sygil coughed to get the man's attention. That didn't work, so Sygil coughed a little louder. When that didn't work, Sygil was about to call out when -.

" **Wake up, you great supine, protoplasmic, invertebrate jelly!** My illustrious lord has graced you with his presence, so **face him when spoken!** "

Maxmillian's loud and sharp outburst caught Sygil off-guard and garnered the man's attention, who nearly jumped out from his slouch in surprise.

"Ye-argh what the fuck!" The man shot out rapidly as he scrambled to stand up properly. He turned to take in Sygil and Maxmillian, glaring at both of them.

"Get the fuck out of my shop!"

Sygil put his hands to placate the angry man," I do apologise for my partner's rudeness. He seems to not know how to speak to people properly," Sygil shot a warning glance to Maxmillian, who was currently embattled in a contest of glares with the man he had offended.

The man crossed his arms, before huffing. "I don't care! You can both take a hike! Fucking people these days…" He muttered that last part under his breath.

"We're just here for a map; we're a little lost."

"Did you not hear a word I said!"

"I did, but I am here as a potential customer. I promise not to cause you any more trouble."

Internally Sygil was groaning. _Why the fuck can't something go easy for me for just ONCE in my fucking life!_

The man scrutinised them both, until he relented.

"Fine. I'll talk to you. But he!" he gestured to Maxmillian, "has to shut the fuck up or I'll shut him up myself, ye' hear!"

Maxmillian was about to say something, but Sygil beat him to it.

"Just do as he says Maxmillian. It's not worth it." Maxmillian wanted to protest, but he relented under Sygil's look. The Supreme Being's orders took precedence after all.

Sygil looked back at the man, a small smile on his face, hoping to put past grievances behind.

"Great, my name's Sygil – " "-I don't give a fuck about your name, are you gonna buy something or not? Cos if not, there's the fucking door." He gestured to the door with his thumb.

Sygil's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. _Stuck up prick._

"That depends if you have any quality maps."

The man narrowed his eyes, speaking gruffly.

"My maps are plenty good! Are you gonna buy or not."

"Well, what have you got?" Sygil tried his best to ignore the man's abrasive behaviour, though to be fair, Maxmillian was at fault. That would be something he would have to address later.

"What are you looking for?"

"A world map for starters, like an atlas. Maybe one of the country we're in and where we specifically are." Sygil's patience was being tried right now.

The man scoffed.

"Well," he began sarcastically. "A world map! I'll just pull one of those outta my ass real quick. Let me go fetch one yer majesty."

Before Sygil could say anything, however, the man snarked at him.

"You fucking idiot. Ask for something more realistic. As for an 'atlas', I've no idea whatever the hell that is."

Sygil clenched his fist and teeth in frustration and interrupted before the man could continue.

"Just show me what maps you have then, I'll consider purchasing one once I see the quality for myself."

"You can have a quick glance is all. Anything more than 10 seconds and you have to pay for it. You got that!"

Sygil waved him off calmly, though internally he was tempted to string the bastard up by his neck.

"Sure, just get me a map."

"Wait here. And don’t touch anything!" With that, the man left to go grab something from behind him out of sight.

"Just say the word sir, and this inbred bastard will be singing you answers like a song-bird." Maxmillian had a tight grimace plastered on his face, and the way his hand rested on his sword was not doing much to reassure Sygil.

"I would appreciate it if you would not threaten people out of context Maxmillian," sighed Sygil.

"Word tends to spread fairly quickly, and I really don't need that sort of attention on me right now. Just ignore it for now, at least until I say so. Besides, people like him," he gestured as the man started to come back, "tend to get their fair due in time."

The man quirked an eyebrow at Sygil, catching the last part. However, he failed to understand what he was referring to and instead opted to roll his eyes before laying a new map on the table.

"Your ten seconds starts now," he spat.

Sygil and Maxmillian wasted no time, looking at the map. For Maxmillian, his maxed out stats allowed him to absorb many of the map's details far more quickly. For Sygil, however, he was less concerned about absorbing the map details so much as he was staring in disbelief and shock, daresay even offense.

After three seconds of looking at the map, he shot his gaze back up to the man.

"What the fuck is this?"

The man was caught off-guard at Sygil's exclamation, and was about to retort angrily, but Sygil beat him to it.

"I asked for a MAP! Not a drawing of some fantasy land."

The man stuttered in shock.

"Wh-what?! Are you fucking daft?!" He began indignantly.

"I don't know what a Re-Estize Kingdom is, but you're fucking with me right now. Go back into the room there, and get me a proper map."

"I don't know how retarded you are, but that 'Re-Estize Kingdom' is the name of the kingdom you're in, you stupid cunt."

Sygil's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Get back into the room and get me a PROPER map!"

The man grumbled as he grabbed the map and went back into the room. "Why the fuck do I get the loopy fuckers."

When the man came back, Sygil was waiting impatiently.

"Did you get an actual map this time?"

"Yes your majesty. One map coming up," snarked the man.

He laid the map out in full for Sygil to look at. Sygil looked at the map for several seconds, before sighing in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ….," began Sygil, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, briefly glancing at Maxmillian before returning his gaze back to the man.

"A map of Earth! EARTH! Have you heard of it, or is your head so far up your own ass you've gone blind!"

"You fuck-head. Can't you read a map! This is our world we live in! Basic knowledge even a peasant would know!"

"Really now? I just want a map of the area I'm in, is all. I'm not interested in your games."

"Are you gonna buy the map or not," shot the man impatiently.

Sygil took a proper glance at the map, taking in the names of the locations, the geography, everything. He probably wouldn't remember half of the shit, but from what he could get, it didn't seem to be any Earth continent he was aware, eschewing the fact Earth did not exactly have a Re-Estize Kingdom as far as he was concerned.

Though, the more he looked at the map, and recalled the past experiences over the past day and night, the more he began to think.

_This isn't a coincidence. Something's not right._

He was broken from his thoughts by the man, however.

"Your ten seconds is up. That's 2 gold coins for the map, plus another gold coin for being a straight out dick to me."

Even the language and terminology everyone used was indicative of something wrong. Who bartered in gold coins in this day and age anymore? Very few, if at all. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like he was no longer on Earth, but in some strange medieval land.

"Don't play deaf with me now! What's next, you _conveniently_ have no money!" The man began to rant, until Sygil had enough of his thoughts being interrupted and spoke up.

"I'm not paying anything. You have nothing useful anyways." The man seemed to turn red at that, before he finally exploded, yelling at them both and pointing to the door.

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY SHOP! NOW! You fucking dim-witted idiots!"

Sygil, too busy in his thoughts to care, wordlessly complied, beckoning to Maxmillian to follow.

As Sygil exited out of the door, Maxmillian followed behind, shooting a scathing glare to the shop owner, who returned his own in kind.

As Maxmillian let the door close behind him, both could hear the man shouting from inside.

"And don't come back! Worthless cunts!"

Sygil let a frown form on his face.

"Talk about a warm reception to the town," he muttered under his breath, sparing a glance down the street.

He could see, what he assumed was, Beovhan's residence that he had mentioned earlier.

Looking at Maxmillian, he gestured to the large mansion.

"Perhaps we can try our luck with a more… friendly host."

"If you wish sir, I can interrogate the cartographer for information. Since we appear to not be in Yggdrasil, I am confident that the Geneva Convention will not apply to us here, therefore we are not liable to the normal laws and statutes concerning torture and information gathering." Maxmillian was calm, and unfaltering in his suggestion, fully confident that the method would work.

Sygil shook his. "First off, the Geneva Convention applies to Earth, not Yggdrasil. Secondly, there's no need to bother. The guy seems mentally unstable anyways so interrogating him wouldn't yield anything valuable. Probably doing some drug… kingdom my ass." Sygil rolled his eyes at the shopkeepers words and the 'maps' he had been provided. He didn't want believe the man's words, but based on the past events in the last 24 hours, there was a small seed of doubt that did question if there was some truth behind the shopkeeper's claim.

So far, he had yet to see a modern technological item of the modern day nearby.

_It's like I'm in a medieval town._

"Then where exactly are we?" Maxmillian's question was not a surprise to him, considering he was pondering that himself.

"I don't really know. Perhaps Mr. Beovhan can help us."

Maxmillian nodded slowly as they approached the mansion. "He seems quite eager to assist. That is indeed a smart choice for him."

Sygil shook his head slowly in scepticism. "Too eager. Something seems a bit off about him. Keep your guard up."

"Of course sir, though, may I inquire as to why you feel he is likely a threat? When I did an Appraisal on him, he wasn't even Level 1."

Sygil looked quizzically at Maxmillian's choice of words. "What do you mean an Appraisal? As in magic?"

Maxmillian continued unperturbed. "Yes sir. Did you not want me to have done so?"

"No, knowing everyone's strengths and weaknesses is important. I'm just surprised that you could do something like that in the real world. Can you perform a demonstration for me later?"

While he wanted to scoff at the idea of magic being performed, the fact remained that Maxmillian, an NPC he created in Yggdrasil, was currently conversing and interacting with him here in the real world.

"An appraisal, or other Tier magic?"

"If you can do both, then yes. Later though, we are nearly here." He gestured to the mansion as they arrived closer.

The mansion, true to Beovhan's words, was indeed quite large, about three stories high with just as many visible floors judging by the numerous windows. White stone and marble walls, with dark stone rafters, constituted the majority of the mansion.

A small fountain could be seen directly in front of the mansion doorway, with accompanying green shrubs and hedges surrounding the simple stone pathway that lead from the main street road. There was no fence to slow down trespassers, however.

Out of all the houses and buildings in the town so far, it was the most impressive.

As they walked up the footpath to the door, Sygil addressed Maxmillian.

"And to answer your question, yes I am cautious of Beovhan. For good reason too. He gives me a bad vibe.”

With that, they were at door.

Sygil knocked sharply and loudly three times in succession, hoping to get someone's attention, if anyone was even home.

Several seconds later, the door could be heard being unlocked, and finally opened.

Before him to stood an average-height woman, dressed in a rather loose fitting, but fancy, white dress that covered most of her arms, body and the entirety of her legs. Her hair was weaved back in a bun, and a gentle smile radiated on her face.

Giving her a cursory glance over, she looked to be no older than her early thirties. She looked to be rather slim, save for a noticeable bulge from her stomach region.

"Yes? How can I help you?" She gently inquired.

Sygil coughed to clear his voice. "I am here to speak to Mr Beovhan Augustus. He insisted I come speak to him once I got the chance. Is he here?"

The woman gave him and Maxmillian a quick glance over, noting the dust and flecks of dried blood on Sygil's clothes. He really needed to get that cleaned up at some stage.

"Unfortunately, he is out right now. However, if you would like, you can come in and wait for him to return. He should be no more than half an hour at tops. He had some quick errands to run is all," she spoke sweetly to him, ignoring the blood on his clothes.

"That would be much appreciated, thank-you." He beckoned to Maxmillian to enter after him as the woman held the door open.

As they entered, they were greeted with a spacious waiting room, complete with tables and chairs. Upon one of the tables was a large vase containing several rather large purple flowers that were emitting a faint, but pleasant, aroma. While Sygil ignored them, Maxmillian seemed to analyse them for several seconds, before redirecting his attention to the woman before them both.

The woman closed the door behind them. "Please, take a seat. There's no nearby civilised settlements, so I assume you had a long journey and must be tired. I will go fetch one of the maids to bring you refreshments." With that, she disappeared around another doorway.

Maxmillian remained standing, hand resting on his sabre hilt, whilst Sygil sat down. He didn't bother to ask Maxmillian to sit down; if he wanted to he would. If not, that was his choice. Instead, he lost himself in his thoughts.

He recalled the maps he was shown, coupled with his encounters with strange creatures and animal-people, as well as Mamxillian's presence. The customs of the people of Merigold, ranging from the medieval architecture and lack of technology, to the clothes and mannerisms and terminology used by the residents, was off. Everything seemed to point to him being back in Yggdrasil. Except, his injury could be felt; Maxmillian clearly stated this wasn't Yggdrasil, and while he was ultimately unsure, he trusted an NPC to know its own environment more than him. Realistically, he doubted he was in Yggdrasil; the realism and return of physical sensations, such as touch, smell and many more, were indicative of that. That left three other possibilities.

One, this was all an elaborate hoax set up to confuse him, but he discounted that idea due to the absurdity of the notion, as well as the level of investment required to pull such a feat off.

The second possibility was that he was currently enduring a string of bad luck and had essentially 'teleported', for lack of a better word, into a remote part of Earth where stranger people existed. However, the fact that no-one had ever discovered these animal people and the seemingly primitive settlement of Merigold was bewildering to him. _Perhaps a government cover-up?_ But even then, it would have been known in the supernatural world and he would have heard something concerning superstitious animal-folk.

That left the last, most baffling, and concerning, possibility. That he had ended up in a different world, whether a different time in history/evolution, or straight up a different world with different laws of reality and evolution. And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed a possibility.

"Did you want me to run an Appraisal on the woman and anyone else?"

Maxmillian's suggestion broke his train of thought, and he absent-mindedly waved a hand on agreement. "Yeah, go right ahead."

"Excellent, sir."

No sooner had Maxmillian responded did a maid appear around the corner carrying a silver tray containing three porcelain teacups alongside a teapot.

As the maid approached and set the tray on the table, Sygil took in her features.

She was dressed in black short-dress with gold-coloured embroidery that stopped at the knees. A white undershirt could be seen that stopped just shy of her elbows and was buttoned up to her collar-bone to cover any cleavage the dress itself would have left. Black stockings disappeared under her dress, revealing no skin, while black dress boots with a low heel travelled halfway to her knees from the ankles. A silver buckle and leather strap wrapped around her ankles. White gloves ascended half-way up her lower arms, leaving only part of her arms exposed.

Her head was hung low, so he couldn't fully discern her facial features, but her skin was tanned, whilst her wild, unruly hair, which cascaded beyond her shoulders onto her chest and back, was a rustic red to dark brown in colour. Perhaps the light was making it difficult to discern.

When she lifted her head upon placing the tray of drinks on the table, he caught two interesting features.

The first was a bluish, banded tattoo that wrapped around her throat like a collar, complete with diamond symbols and patterns that never exceeded the two thin band lines that acted as a border.

The second was her despondent, dead look of despair, as if she had given up all hope.

As she stepped back, he caught a third interesting feature, which was the pair of pointed animal ears akin to a wolf's adorned on the top of her head, barely hidden in the jungle of her head hair.

"Quite the looker, isn't she," called out the woman that greeted them both, rounding the corner to come sit in front of them both.

Sygil casually glanced back at the woman to reply.

"I guess. I'm not here for pleasantries though."

She shrugged indifferently as she slid into her own chair, pulling the hem of her dress up as she did so.

"Suit yourself. She does go cheaply for the night, if you change your mind, however."

Sygil slightly frowned, as did Maxmillian.

"Pardon?"

"She goes for about 10 Silver a session, per person. Most men usually take the offer, especially those interested in a bit of a rougher time," chuckled the woman, staring directly at Sygil, "She can be a bit of a fighter from what I've heard."

"I do hope you're not implying what I think you are," replied Sygil with distaste, the tone not unnoticed by the woman.

"My apologies, I just assumed with all the blood on you that you were a bit of a scrapper yourself."

"I prefer the term _business-man_ ," retorted Sygil with thin lips.

Sygil glanced at the maid, who was currently standing behind the woman to the distant side, out of the way he assumed, with her head hung low and her hands clasped in front of her.

"Perhaps your companion here would be interested in some time with her instead?" offered the woman.

That was it.

"You dare suggest that I, or even better yet, my Lord, the One and Only Supreme Being, should bed with that filthy demi-human?!" Hissed Maxmillian. The woman was taken aback while Sygil raised an eyebrow at Maxmillian's burst.

"Did you not hear what he just said! We are here on business related reasons ONLY!"

"That's enough Maxmillian!" warned Sygil. "Take a seat and calm down."

Maxmillian snarled at both of the women, but refused to sit down.

The woman spoke up, surprise written on her face. "I apologise, I didn't realise you actually disliked the demi-humans that much! I can organise for one of the human maids if you – " -"That won't be necessary," interrupted Sygil.

"If you insist. I didn't catch your names?"

"I'm Sygil, and this is Maxmillian. Please excuse his behaviour, he tends to speak without thinking sometimes." _This is getting out of hand with Maxmillian!_

"And your name is?" he rotated his right hand to prompt her for a response.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me! I'm Clair. Clair Augustus." Clair smiled sweetly as she straightened out her dress.

Sygil gestured to the maid. "And who's the maid?"

"Oh, her name's not important, but if you insist, we call her Trisha." Clair adopted a frown, however, as she continued.

"She's one of our favourites, does her work pretty well and brings in plenty of money on many nights, especially from the mercenaries. Though, she was a bitch to train at first, **weren't you** ," she called to the maid coldly. Trisha responded monotonely. "Yes mistress."

Clair's sweet smile returned as she faced Sygil again. "As you can see, though, she's well domesticated now. Had to after she was brought in from those dreadful savage tribes in the forest. Murderous pack of brigands."

 _Tribes in the forest? Is she from Gallheia's tribe?_ Sygil pursed his lips.

"Really now?"

"Oh yes," nodded Clair as she reached for her tea to take a sip. After daintly taking a sip, she continued. "Her and a bunch of others were captured in a raid years back. My brother led the party to bring in some slaves for us to use. Unfortunately, half the party was killed, including my brother, but we managed to capture a fair few of them in return. Alas, half of the captured ones began to kill themselves, refusing to work for us. Some, however, tried to resist us. Trisha here was at the head of those that tried to resist. Despite her looks, she's a hell of a fighter, as were all of them. It took a fair bit of reconditioning to civilise them, especially her." She took another sip.

"Once we civilised them, we had to operate on them all and brand them to prevent them using magic. Many died in the operations, but Trisha here! Trisha was strong! She endured, as did several others. We keep them employed in our business, but Trisha here, she works around the mansion. Keeps it clean and helps satisfy any of our clients or hired hands."

The more he heard, the more Sygil was repulsed. _Is this land comprised of nothing but primitive savages!?_

"And what exactly is your business, anyway?" He tried to remain cordial.

"When my husband returns, he'll tell you all about it. It's part of what he probably wants to speak to you about," she chuckled.

There seemed to be a pause, until Clair spoke again. "Have some tea. It'll be good for your health." Sygil politely declined, however.

"No thanks. I appreciate the offer but I'm not thirsty."

"You're certain?"

Maxmillian spat at Clair in contempt. "Are you deaf? He just told you."

"Now, now, Maxmillian. No need to be rude."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's fine," sighed Clair. "I just thought you might like some."

The sound of the front door being opened caught everyone's attention.

"Ah, darling! You're home!"

Beovhan chuckled as he closed the door. "Yes honey, I'm back. Was following up a report from Cain when old Clive asked me to settle a complaint of his."

Beovhan walked over to Clair, giving her a loving hug and kiss, before taking in Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I see we have guests!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"Sygil, and Maxmillian right?" The cheery smile failed to leave his face. Sygil merely dipped his head slightly in confirmation. "Mr Augustus," he greeted.

"Please, I told you. You don't need to call me that," he politely waved the title away as he took a seat next to his wife.

"So, I assume you're here to hear what I have to say?" asked the portly man knowingly.

"Yes." Sygil didn't mince words, as evident by his curt reply.

"Well," began Beovhan, rubbing his hands together. "What did you want to talk about?"

Sygil raised an eyebrow as he leaned back into the seat, letting an arm dangle over the arm-rest, before replying with disinterest. "I don't know. You tell me, since you're the one that insisted I come here in the first place."

"Eh-he, er, well, yes," began Beovhan, scratching the side of his neck. "You looked like a traveller in need of some potential assistance. I like to help those I can."

"Really now?" Sygil wasn't buying it. "You just happen to help every stray that catches your eye?" Beovhan leaned over to grab one of the teacups, glancing at Sygil if he could have it. Sygil politely gestured to say 'help himself'.

Beovhan took a sip, before replying with a slight chuckle. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Clair joined in his chuckling. "Oh, dear. So kind and helpful as always. So, what was up with Clive anyway?"

"Oh, that? Apparently he had some, according to him anyways, rude and rowdy customers that he, and I quote here, 'seemed to come from the ass-end of nowhere and act like it too'. You know how he is though." He shrugged off Clair's question and took another sip of the tea, before facing Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I assume he at least answered your questions though?"

"And how would you know about that?"

"Oh, easy, Clive said two strangers were asking for where they were. Quite easy to piece together he was referring to you, especially considering we don't get many strangers here, after all. Did you get what you wanted, by chance?"

"Unfortunately no," Sygil ran a hand through his hair. "The places on his maps seemed a little… different from what I expected?"

"Foreigner?" Suggested Beovhan.

Sygil paused for a second, before answering. "You could say that. I was hoping to find my bearings, but, assuming what he showed on the map was true, I feel more lost than I was before."

Clair nodded sagely. "That's unfortunate to hear. If you're not from around here, where are you from then?"

"East of here," returned Sygil carefully.

"Oh my? How far? What nation?" Prompted Clair.

"Far east. Russia." He was just throwing a random nation out, hoping they would reply positively and say yes, they were familiar with the name Russia. Or anything at this stage.

Beovhan interrupted. "I haven't heard of this Russia? Is it beyond the Beastmen territories?"

Now it was Sygil's turn to be confused. "I haven't heard of this Beastmen territory you speak of."

"Then, how did you get here?" questioned Clair.

"That's what I'm still trying to figure out."

"Well surely you must have some idea?" Beovhan quirked an eyebrow as he asked, before glancing back at his wife. "Though, that probably explains your eagerness to get a hold of a map. If you had asked me, I would have been happy to provide you one!"

"If you have one, I would appreciate having a look, then. If it's not too much of a bother?" Especially considering he was essentially kicked out of the cartographer's store.

Maxmillian leaned over to whisper in Sygil's ear. "Pardon my ignorance sir, but we spent time going through the maps at the cartographers place. What makes you think he will provide anything different?"

"Maybe not, but I think it's a waste to not see what he might potentially have for a map. Besides, he's offering it to us freely, unlike our cartographer friend who wanted to likely extort us for gold. Which we don't currently have on us."

Maxmillian leaned back in understanding.

Beovhan chuckled heartily, before turning to the maid. "Trisha! Go to my office and fetch my map! Be quick about it!" He snapped.

"Yes master." Trish bowed her head before leaving the room to fetch the map.

As she left, Sygil inquired to Beovhan.

"So, Clair tells me you are involved in a business of sorts? Mind explaining what that business is?"

"Ah yes! Clair and I run a farming business. We are one of the largest suppliers of grain, oats and wheats for the Re-Estize Kingdom. We supply nearly 30% of the Kingdom's grain and oats. As such, we have quite a lucrative business."

"Is that what all those fields are then?"

"Yes. We have many leagues of property that expands right to the border edge of the forest. Though, such large property requires a lot more work than you could imagine."

Beovhan sighed as he placed his cup back on the table.

"Between the number of workers in the fields to maintain, as well as the guards we need to keep them in line and defend my property, it can be quite draining. Especially with those blasted savage tribes in the woods!" He spat the last part, like it left an offensive taste in his mouth just thinking about it even.

"Why do you need guards to keep the workers in line?" Sygil had a feeling he knew what the answer was, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horses mouth instead.

"Simple. We use demi-human slaves, and while they have been re-educated and civilised, we still need to keep a vigilant eye on them lest they try to think they can revolt or escape." Beovhan answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Beovhan looked quizzically at Sygil and Maxmillian upon noticing their displeased faces.

"Is there something wrong?"

Maxmillian answered. "It's disgusting that you would use demi-humans in such a way."

Beovhan looked taken aback, but Maxmillian continued. Sygil was internally face-palming, however.

"Such filthy creatures should be put out of their miserable existence. I don't know why you would trust them with your crops; human labour will always be much better. Frankly, I struggle to determine what's more offensive. Their presence in procuring human produce, or your willingness to use them."

Beovhan closed his mouth and Clair looked at him with surprise. "That's… a rather strong response?"

Sygil interjected. "What Maxmillian means is that using slavery will bring many inherent, and frankly, unnecessary risks. It is as crude and ineffective as it is barbaric. I was under the impression it was outlawed."

Clair scoffed. "And what, where you come from slavery isn't used? No offence, but your nation must be underdeveloped to not utilise such labour." Beovhan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, honey, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe they do things different. I'm sorry, she meant no offence." The last part was directed at the men adjacent from him.

"None taken," replied Sygil. "Though, I stand by what I said. Automated machinery is much faster, efficient and cheaper in the long run, instead of relying on unwilling labour. The cost of feeding and housing alone would be bothersome. And that's not taking into consideration that an unhappy workforce is a dangerous workforce. Are you sure you could handle the outcome when things get out of hand?"

Beovhan laughed, clapping Clair on the back, before proudly boasting. "That's a good one! Clair here is capable of Third Tier Magic. She put the magical seals around their wretched necks, and with the mercenaries we hired, there is no chance of a revolt occurring. Besides, even if they tried, which they won't, they are fully aware of the consequences. We've made sure of that."

As he finished, Trisha came walking in and presented the map to Beovhan, who took it from her, opening it up and placing it on the table beside the tray of drinks. Trisha simply stepped away to the side, waiting dutifully for an order.

"I wouldn't be too certain. You take away everything from a person, and suddenly they have every reason to fight back. Not just for themselves, but for their children and future generations." Sygil was stating facts.

Clair snorted. "I doubt that very much. We've ensured that our slaves can't have children again."

Sygil narrowed his eyes.

_What?_

"What do you mean?"

"Oh well we sterilise our slaves," explained Beovhan matter-of-factly. "Can't have them breeding! For the men we castrate them. For the women, we remove their womb, so they can never bear children again. Would be a pain if every client managed to successfully impregnate one after a single session. This way there are no future generations for them to have an incentive to fight back, as well as cuts back the costs of having to deal with pregnant slaves. Before, we'd have just sold them off or cut the baby out. But clients don't like heavily scarred females, and such procedures tend to have rather high mortality rates. It's easier this way for all parties involved."

Sygil was at a loss for words. He had encountered many messed up things in his long life, and he had even done some rather unsavoury actions in his life, but this? This was straight fucked up. He may have been a demon, but even he had standards.

"Really now? And what of your conscience? How does that feel?" implored Sygil.

Beovhan looked at Sygil questioningly. "What do you mean? They're just savages. Demihumans. No-one cares about them. They're nothing but a pest in these lands, and her tribe," he gestured to Trisha, "does nothing but going around and raping and slaughtering men, innocent boys even!"

Sygil leaned forward. "While I agree that rape and other such vile activities should not be allowed to go unpunished, what you are doing is no different to them. In fact, it makes you a hypocrite. It makes you just as much of a monster as the people you are fighting against. The only difference is you stoop down to their level and do it just because."

Beovhan seemed to grow angry at that. "Excuse me?! My wife's brother was brutally murdered by those savages! Are you saying I should welcome in the same vile cretin that desecrated his body into my home and forgive it?"

Sygil traced a gloved finger in the rim of the table, finding no dust. "Absolutely not. But, as the saying goes, you reap what you sow. And you are sowing the seeds of discontent amongst your 'employees' and further exciting the violence between the tribes and yourself. Sooner or later, it will catch up to you." There was a warning undertone in his voice.

"But enough of that," began Sygil, adopting a lighter tone. "As much as I may disagree with your choices, it is not my problem to deal with. Now, was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?"

Beovhan was quick to put the unpleasantness behind as well, and he jumped straight in.

"Ah yes! Part of why I invited you here was because, seeing as you're travelling from afar, I figured you might be interested in some work to keep those bellies of yours fed."

"While I thank you for your offer-" "-I insist! You must be exhausted. I can offer one of the guest rooms for you to stay at. Please, stay the night! It's free, so you don't have to worry about coin."

Sygil tilted his head in suspicion, but Clair then spoke. "Please, at least for the night. It's going to be dark soon, and I know that the inn can be a little bit expensive. It's the least we could do." She had the same, sweet smile on her face.

He looked out the window behind him, and could in fact see the amber glow of the sun beginning to set, evident by the deepening shadows on the land behind him and in the street.

"Perhaps. If I were to take you on this offer, what's the catch?"

"Oh, there's no catch," waved Clair dismissively. "We can discuss your employment terms at dinner," she continued cheerily.

"I was not aware I was being employed? Nor do I have interest in working for you or anyone at this stage."

"But surely, now, you should wait until you hear the details," reassured Beovhan.

"But enough of that. We should discuss this over dinner. Besides, even if you're not interested, we can discuss arranging for transport to any of the cities within the kingdom if you need to, right?"

It was tempting, if only to gain more information. But was it necessary? No. Besides, something seemed off about Beovhan and Clair. And not just because they supported slavery and other associated barbaric practices.

Still, perhaps it would be worth it. He needed some time to think things over, however. He was currently undergoing what felt like an information overload today, and he needed some quiet time to reflect. And maybe gather some more information about the couple before him. And what better place than to go where loose lips float about; a bar.

"Perhaps later, then," suggested Sygil. "I would like to stretch my legs and familiarise myself with the town for a couple hours."

"That's fine, go ahead. Dinner will be ready in three hours anyways. Be sure to be back by then," smiled Clair.

"Trisha," called Beovhan. "Clear the table of drinks and wait in the kitchen for me."

Trisha quickly came to the table, bending over to grab the tray of drinks. As she did, however, Beovhan suddenly reprimanded her in panic. "Watch the map you fool!"

She quickly tried to tip the tray in the other direction to avoid spilling the drinks on Beovhan's map. Instead, the tea spilt all over Sygil's legs, the teacups bouncing on the soft carpet without damage.

Trisha's eyes met his with panic, and her breath hitched.

"You damned clutz! Look at the mess you made!" roared Beovhan, jumping up and grabbing Trisha by her free wrist to pull her in closer to him. Clair had a frown of disgust marred on her face as Beovhan yelled at Trisha again.

"You inbred fucking savage! Look at the mess you made!" A resounding smack could be heard as he backhanded her across the face, drawing some blood from her mouth. She took it all with silence and no resistance.

Sygil stared at the mess the tea had made on his pant legs. Ultimately, it was just a simple spill; an accident and nothing worth stressing over. As he looked up to see Beovhan tearing into the hapless maid, Clair apologised. "I'm so sorry for the mess. Sometimes those savages aren't fully trained well, and for that I do apologise." Sygil brushed off her apology however as he stood up.

"Do you enjoy causing trouble and embarrassing me in front of guests? Huh?! Well do you!" By now he was screaming in her face, and she kept her eyes downcast in shame and misery.

He reared his hand back to deliver another strike, and just as his fist was about to make contact with her face again, he felt a hand grab his.

Turning in surprise, Sygil was firmly holding his hand at bay with his own. He struggled to carry the punch through, but Sygil's grip was vice-like. Sygil spoke calmly.

"Now let's just calm down here, people. Nothing needs to devolve into violence, especially over something as trivial as spilt tea."

All eyes were on him now as Beovhan spoke up. "I'm sorry she made a mess of your clothes; she should know better!" "It doesn't really matter," sighed Sygil. "They're already filthy anyway, from the blood and dirt earlier, so I doubt a little tea at this stage is really going to be a game-changer. At least, not for me anyways." Sygil shot a pointed look at Beovhan.

"If you want to prove you are more civilised than these 'so-called' savages, prove it by showing restraint. I trust you can do that?"

Beovhan sputtered indignantly for a second, before sighing and relenting, letting go of the maid and slackening his muscles in the arm Sygil held. "I suppose it's unbecoming for a guest to have to witness such things. It is the duty of the master to ensure his slaves are well behaved. You have my sincere apologies for having to witness that and have that mess on you. Would you like your clothes washed? I can get one of the other maids to do that. Unless Trisha here," he glared at the maid, "can do that simple job without fucking it up!"

"That's unnecessary," coughed Sygil to gain his attention. He bent down to pick up the scattered teacups and kettle before placing both on the tray Trisha was holding.

"We'll be back in a few hours to talk. Try not to be too mad at her. Accidents do happen from time to time."

Walking around his chair, he beckoned to Maxmillian to follow him.

Maxmillian beat him to the door, opening it for him to leave out, before shutting it behind him.

As the door was closing, Sygil could hear Clair reprimanding the hapless maid.

_Guess some things never change._

* * *

Maxmillian was the first to speak.

"They appear to have one of the ingredients to treat holy and unholy injuries in their possession."

"What?!"

"When you ordered me to conduct research on holy and unholy elemental magic, one of the ingredients to treat related injuries was a flower termed Alarosaceia. When combined with other ingredients, it can help. Following preliminary appraisals I conducted on the flower in their possession, I confirmed it is indeed Alarosaceia. I thought you would be interested to know is all? It was one of your orders back in Yggdrasil."

Sygil couldn't believe what he was hearing. A fictional flower that could help treat his infection was in the very room they were just in! He had to resist scoffing at the idea, but if it were true, then he could stand a chance, maybe. However, Maxmillian continued.

"I also performed an Appraisal on all of them. Clair appears to be Level 10. Interestingly, the demi-human is level 24, which is the highest I have encountered in this town so far."

Sygil held a hand up. "I'm gonna stop you right there. What do you mean levels?"

Maxmillian cocked his head to the side. "Levels, denoting overall cumulated strength, much like in Yggdrasil. Though I have yet to see if they can actually perform like I'd expect them to. A demonstration would be in order to see if they truly do compare to Yggdrasil levels, or else there might be a potential power discrepancy."

"Then perhaps you can perform a demonstration for me?" suggested Sygil. He was sceptical of this magic talk, but if even one person could perform it, then the likelihood he was not on Earth would indeed be a real possibility.

"Of course sir. What would you like me to perform?"

"Hmm. How about we first get away from the mansion."

"Absolutely sir. Would you approve of a Fly spell? Or perhaps a Fireball?"

Both of these 'spells', which were Yggdrasil spells, could present tangible physical evidence to him. Then again, Maxmillian was standing before him, alive and talking. Realistically, that should not have been the case. Perhaps, this would be a way to confirm?

Sygil nodded his head. "Indeed. Fly to roof of that building," he pointed to the tallest building in the street.

"Of course sir, will you be joining me?"

He had his doubts, but he might as well act calmly about it. So far, things were breaking reality. He doubted it could get even more absurd today than magic.

Except, when Maxmillian recited the spell, Sygil had to keep his jaw from dropping as the NPC floated to the roof of the desired building.

_What?!_

He shook his head to confirm he wasn't imaging things.

_Since I count as a 'player', does that mean Yggdrasil spells can work for me too? No. I learnt that the other month. But…_

The more he thought about, the stronger of a possibility it was. So, steeling himself, he tried.

"[Fly]." And fly, he did.

He had to hold his surprise as he felt himself levitate off of the ground and float rapidly towards where Maxmillian was. However, as soon as he looked elsewhere and thought of another building, he could feel himself change direction.

_Is this linked to my thoughts?_

Correcting his course to meet Maxmillian at the top of the building, he felt himself change direction to meet him.

_It is linked to my thoughts!_

He felt himself touch down next to Maxmillian, surprised at the revelation of the Yggdrasil spell working.

_Wait. If [Fly] works, does that mean all my other Yggdrasil abilities work? Including the levels Maxmillian is mentioning?_

"Maxmillian. Do I have a Level?"

"Yes sir. You are currently Level 81."

_So I do have stats, and levels from Yggdrasil? But, that could only mean…._

It finally dawned on him. Everything finally made sense. From the beast in the woods, to the animal people, to the medieval setting, different map of unfamiliar locations, to the presence of his Yggdrasil Levels and magic.

This wasn't Earth.

This was a different world altogether.

He recalled Maxmillian's words from earlier in the forest. "A new world indeed," he muttered.

But then, it sank in him. This wasn't Earth, which meant….

_My safehouses! What about my safehouses! No! NONONONONOOOO!_

He could feel uncertainty and panic try to grip him, but he refused to let it happen. But there was no denying the facts. He wasn't on Earth anymore. Which meant he didn't have access to any of his safe-houses to reorganise himself. What that also meant was he wouldn't be able to address his holy injury dilemma in any manageable way right now either!

_Fuck! You have to be kidding me!_

His eyes frantically darted around as his mind scrambled to think of something, anything!

_If I don't have access to a safe-house, how can I properly deal with Asphaestus or this injury?!_

The whole plan was to get to one of his safe-houses in the world. Any one of them, it didn't matter which one. But now, that plan was effectively ruined. All of his plans were!

He couldn't help contain himself anymore. He tried to remain calm, he really did, but faced with the reality he was going to probably die soon, he couldn't but scream out his anger in frustration.

"FUCK!"

"Sir, are you alright?!" Maxmillian was by his side in an instant, watching him carefully with worry.

After several seconds to calm down, he replied tersely to Maxmillian. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Then what are your next orders, sir?"

"I don't know Maxmillian, I don't know." At this stage, Sygil felt lost. What was he to do? How was he going to deal with his Holy injury?

Really, he just felt like getting drunk and trying to forget his worries now.However, he didn't have the time to waste.

_Accepting my shoddy reality it is then…_

He felt himself slump down, seemingly in defeat, as he began to think hard and desperately. Hoping to find a solution to help him in his predicament.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, contemplating all the evidence presented before him. He couldn't afford to allow himself to wallow in despair. He needed to keep going, find a way somehow, no matter what. He needed to atone to see her again, and he was damned if he was going to let this setback stop him. He would find a way. He always had.

The more he thought about his predicament, the more anger welled up in him.

 _This is all thanks to that bastard Asphaestus!_ If it wasn't for Asphaestus, he wouldn't be in this predicament, stuck in a foreign world with a borderline incurable Holy infection. Oh, what he would give to personally wring that bastards neck himself….

But he lacked his safehouses, and all of the associated tools and contacts at his disposal. Hell, he lacked most of the components needed to heal himself. The only things that could help heal him were relegated to the world of fantasy, such as magical concoctions containing rare herbs and ingredients. _Alarosaceia… Didn't Maxmillian just say though…?_

Slowly, it dawned on him. He may be trapped in a foreign world, lacking the equipment, resources and knowledge, but that didn't mean he was at a complete disadvantage however. A new world meant new opportunities after all.

Slowly realising the true depth of his situation, he couldn't help but allow a dark smile to morph on his face, a low, staggered chuckle emanating from his lips.

* * *

Maxmillian stared at his Creator intently, ready to perform any task that he wanted from him in a heartbeat. His Creator currently seemed displeased; about what, he was unsure. If he could find the cause of his problem, he would gladly destroy it for its insolence! Alas, his creator was remaining tight-lipped about what was making him upset.

Sygil appeared to be deep in thought, and for what he estimated to be nearly an hour, he sat there. And there was nothing he could do to help his creator, so he stood there by his side, dutifully.

He watched as the sun set, and night began. He watched and observed as the street lamps were light by passing patrols below, and he watched as Sygil continued to sit there, hands steepled for his chin to rest on. Maxmillian could feel himself become unnerved. Was his creator aright? It would seem the opposite in fact. Regardless, he waited for Sygil to do something, to say something, anything. But he didn't.

But then, Sygil finally stirred, a low chuckle coming from his lips, like an inside joke that only he understood and found amusing.

By now, the moon was out, casting its own light into the town streets and the surrounding fields that could be seen nearby.

Sygil stood up, and walked to the edge of the building they atop of, leaning over the stone balcony to look at the minimal town life several stories below.

Maxmillian waited with anticipation, until finally, Sygil spoke. It wasn't with concern, or uncertainty, or even despair. No, it was with conviction, with strength and resolve.

"Maxmillian," started Sygil with steel resolve in his voice.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you certain we're not in Yggdrasil?"

"Positive sir."

He could hear his creator lightly chuckle. "I see. Then we truly are in a foreign land… a new world if you may."

Maxmillian wasn't sure how to answer to that; it was seemingly basic knowledge to understand as far was he was concerned. Was there perhaps something he was missing that Sygil was aware of?

"We are presented with a unique opportunity before us, Maxmillian. Before us is a world with different rules, different circumstances, and different potential than either of our original worlds."

_Either original worlds? What does he mean?_

Sygil continued.

"Do you know that that means for us, Maxmillian?"

"I am unsure sir?"

Sygil allowed a small smile to form on his face. "It means we have a world that has much to offer us, and all we have to do is take it. You seem to remember the research I tasked you back in Yggdrasil?"

"Of course sir."

"Well, with the presence of one of these otherwise non-existent ingredients, there is likely much more to be exploited in this world. This world could be the key that I am looking for."

"If I may ask sir, what is it you specifically are looking for?"

Sygil pursed his lips, before frowning slightly.

"How loyal are you to me?" Sygil watched Maxmillian carefully, gauging for a response.

"You are my creator, the one and only Supreme Being. As such, my loyalty lies only with you, and your wish is my command. I will gladly give you my life. To die for you would be an honour sir. Give me any command, and I will follow it to the letter."

He spoke with conviction, fully believing every word he spoke. Sygil watched him for several more seconds.

"Prove it."

Maxmillian didn't even hesitate, drawing his sabre, and before Sygil could even react, he reversed his grip so the blade was pointed to his own stomach, and then he thrust.

The blade barely depressed the uniform when he felt Sygil wrap a strong hand around his own wrist, preventing him from actually impaling himself.

"Are you crazy?!" exclaimed Sygil, causing Maxmillian to look at him in confusion.

"Sir? Is this not what you wanted when you wanted me to prove my loyalty?"

 _This guy's fucking fanatical!_ Sygil didn't voice his thought, however.

"I think you've proven your point to me. I trust your loyalty."

"Your trust will not be misplaced, my Lord!" Maxmillian almost seemed to beam at him like a child.

Sygil released his grip on the sword, ordering Maxmillian to sheath it.

"I ask for your loyalty, because I will need it for what is to come soon."

"You need not ask sir, I will always be loyal to you, no matter what sir!"

"Your words mean a lot to me, Maxmillian, but we'll soon see…."

Maxmillian was about to object and further declare his fealty, but Sygil continued.

"We first need to know how this world works; what rules it operates by, and how to properly exploit those rules survive." _And from there, find a way to get back at Asphaestus. I have no idea if he was transported here with me. Only time will tell. First thing's first, though. I need to find a way to stop this infection before things get worse._

"Just say the word, and I will bring this world to its knees for you to rule over." With those words, Maxmillian prostrated before him on one knee with his head bowed.

"I'm not interested in the world right now… though…" he looked forlornly at the near empty streets below, recalling the enslaved maid back with Clair and Beovhan. "It wouldn't hurt if I took a piece of this world to help my goals."

"Then allow me to serve you how you see fit, and together, we can make this world your throne to sit upon."

No words were exchanged further, but the more Sygil thought about it, the more tempting the idea would sound under normal circumstances.

_If I didn't have to deal with this infection and Asphaestus, then perhaps I would have indulged myself in the idea of ruling over a world and changing it? It most certainly wouldn't hurt to cleanse it…._

"One thing at a time, Maxmillian. One thing at a time…" And with those words, Sygil beckoned Maxmillian to follow him.

"First, we need to gain information. Specifically, I am curious about our gracious hosts, Mr and Mrs Augustus."

As they approached the edge of the building to look upon the street, Sygil glanced at Maxmillian with a small smile.

"And what better place to gain the preliminary information we need than by going where loose lips float about."

Maxmillian followed Sygil's gaze as it rested upon an inn across the street. "An inn…" supplied Maxmillian.

"Precisely."

* * *

Merigold's inn tended to have a rather active night life despite the town's small size. Most of the residents, which weren't many, would often spend part of their night at the inn, eating food, getting drunk, poorly attempting to hook up with any woman that fancied their eyes, and otherwise waste away several hours of their existence.

It was the beginning hours of night, and the town's meagre number of residents were starting to fill in, some simply for a light meal and drink, others for a longer night of booze and unsuccessful flirting.

In total, the town likely held only 100 odd residents, more akin to a village. However, the wealth brought in by the Augustus family made the residents feel like nobles, and thus the small town could afford to have better quality housing and business'. The occasional traveller also helped bring in some additional coin, but it was mostly through the labours of the Augustus family and their profitable wheat and grain business that the town prospered.

The Augustus family were well known throughout the small town, and were in fact considered to be the official leaders and representatives for the town and its interests. And it was precisely for these reasons that Sygil was visiting the inn, with Maxmillian in tow.

"Forgive me for my ignorance sir, but why are we heading to the inn? Why not just simply ask Beovhan and Clair themselves. Demand the information, and if they refuse to comply, torture them?"

Sygil sighed at Maxmillian's heavy-handed concept of an approach. "Because, there are some things we will likely not be told. Rumours tend to circulate, and their credence shouldn’t be entirely dismissed. And I want to get a better grasp of those two before our dinner with them in…" he pulled his sleeve back, revealing his, surprisingly, still functional watch. "Two hours."

"Why are we even bothering with this dinner formality?"

"Because, there is much to be possibly gained. Supplies, funding, information, and possibly more. First though, we must gain some world information, get a feel for the local populace. Only then, can we make a move on them."

They arrived at the inn's entrance, and could vaguely overhear muffled chatter from inside.

"We will need some currency for later. We'll split up and gather information. I trust you can do so without causing a scene?" Sygil's quirked eyebrow was doubtful, but he could hope.

"Of course sir, if that is your desire."

"Good. If you can, SUBTLY _…_ try to get some money from the patrons in here. Bribery tends to help people speak more freely." He stressed the word, not wanting another scene to be caused.

"Of course sir. You can count on me."

"Good. Meet me in the front when you are done gathering information. And remember, try not to draw too much attention to yourself."

With that, Sygil opened the door.

* * *

The inside of the inn was typical to many small restaurant bars, with numerous wooden tables and chairs scattered about the floor, and a bar at the far wall where a bartender was providing a range of drinks to several seated patrons. The odd waiter or two could be seen floating around, serving food, collecting finished meals and otherwise dodging drunken compliments and flirting.

Few people turned to acknowledge the newcomers, the moderate chatter drowning out their entrance.

Sygil and Maxmillian walked down the steps onto the floor. As they walked by some of the patrons, they slowly started to get some looks from people, unused to seeing the strangers and their foreign attire.

Sygil decided to head straight to the bar where the bartender was, while Maxmillian headed to where other customers were.

He took note of the bartender, a rather burly woman with worn features and braided hair, who was currently focused on collecting the empty food plates from one of the waiters.

Taking a seat next to a drunk patron currently slumped on the bar bench, he observed a small, loose coin pouch clasped in his hands under the bench, out of sight to most people, especially the bartender.

A subtle glance around confirmed that most of the attention was off of him now, so his sleight of hand went unnoticed as he relieved the almost unconscious patron of his money.

 _People don't talk unless there is something in it for them._ It was a well known, fact, and while he would try to gain free information, if need be, hopefully the coins in the bag would help 'convince' a person to speak more freely.

 _This almost going to be too easy._ He thought in satisfaction. All he needed to do was do a preliminary check of the coin pouch to get a rough idea of what was in it. While he had no idea how the currency worked, it would at least let him know what to somewhat expect.

Upon opening the pouch, he had to resist giving in to frustration, holding back a twitching eyebrow.

_What fucking idiot puts goddamn rocks in a coin pouch?!_

The pouch was filled mostly with rocks that had no value whatsoever, and only several coins.

Pulling the coins out, he counted two copper coins, and one silver coin.

He had no idea what their worth was, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be enough.

"Can I help you?" The bartenders gruff voice broke his attention, and he looked up to face her.

Well, no time like the present.

"Yes actually. I was curious as to how such an establishment can sustain business so well considering the town's meagre population."

The woman scoffed. "You ain't from around here, are you."

Sygil smiled sadly. "Unfortunately. I was wondering if you happen to know anything about Mr and Mrs Augustus?"

"What's there to know? They're a successful couple that helped make this place prosperous."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. Before they took over the farming business, this place was nearly dry as a bone. Piss poor too. But they got it up and running. The people here respect them for it. Love the conditions too. Can't say I blame 'em."

"Even if such prosperity is built on slavery?"

The bartender scoffed. "As if anyone gives a damn about those rabid animals. It's no secret how this town prospers, but the way folks around here see it, they had it coming. Personally, I think they got off light."

He furrowed his brows in thought. "Why do you say that?"

"Those damned demi-humans are the reason my father's dead. Raped him, then killed him. It's what they do. Part of their messed up thinking. Like animals, they are."

"Are they all like that, though?"

"Oh probably not. But they'll go that way sooner or later. Better to kill 'em off before they can cause problems. Unfortunately, Merigold isn't a big place. And despite being the Kingdom's bigger producers, we get piss all for protection. Instead, Beovhan hires mercenaries to protect the place, keep the slaves in check, and otherwise keep those savages back."

"And have they been effective?"

"They're last raid was years ago. Killed a lot of our men in the process, but we killed several of theirs, and captured a fair few. Most chose to off themselves, but the ones that didn't? Well, they've been working for us now. They do a lot of the grunt work in the fields. Though Beovhan keeps a couple out for display and hire for those that need to relieve themselves. Personally, I think it's not worth it, but hey, it reimburses Beovhan for his efforts and helps keep this place plenty afloat."

"Do the slaves do all of the farming, then?"

She crossed her arms. "Most of it. Enough of them to do it. Plus, between the mercenaries and Beovhan, they can get a lot done. Despite their tendencies, they're productive workers. Provided they have the right motivation, of course."

"Of course," nodded Sygil slowly.

"But aren't they warriors, though? How do a couple mercenaries keep them from revolting?"

"HAH! The mercenaries just keep them in line. What prevents a revolution is the magic seals that prevent them from using magic. It also helps dampen their strength I hear. Between the reconditioning, mercenaries and seals, they're pretty docile now."

Sygil was about to inquire more, but the woman cut him off. "Anyhow, are you going to order a drink or not? Cos' I got customers here."

He was about to reply, when the doors to the inn suddenly crashed open, revealing the armoured knight mercenaries from earlier in all their boisterous glory enter.

All eyes seemed to snap to them as five of the mercenaries entered. The same five from earlier that he had encountered.

Currently they were descending the steps, removing their helmet as they approached the bar.

Noticing some of the eyes upon them, the leader of the group, Cain, Sygil assumed from the voice, barked out to the patrons.

"What? Something funny?"

That was enough to encourage the patrons to return to their meals and their beverages.

Sygil could hear the footsteps approach him from behind.

_Why do I get the distinct feeling this isn't going to end well?_

"You're in my seat," started Cain contemptuously.

Upon closer look, Sygil took in the mercenaries features.

Cain had short-cut blonde hair, with a matching moustache, and piercing blue eyes. _I already hate this guy._

Behind him stood four other similarly armed and equipped mercenaries. One was clean-shaven with light stubble and a dead look to his already dull eyes. Another mercenary had wild, unruly hair with a matching beard and moustache. The third mercenary was a woman with long flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes. The fourth mercenary was a rather large and muscular mercenary that sported a buzz-cut, well manicured goatee, and was littered with scars of various shape and sizes.

"You're the mercenaries from earlier, aren't you?" Sygil ignored him, opting for a question of his own.

By now Cain was in his face. "Did you not hear a fucking word I said," growled the man irately.

"Well, are you?"

"Yeah, we are. Now move, or I'll do it for you myself." Cain made motion to grab his sword as a warning.

Sygil, not currently interested in a conflict yet, stepped off of his bar seat to allow Cain to sit down. Cain merely snorted in disgust at him as he strutted by, taking his seat and immediately ordering some ale from the bartender.

The other mercenaries made to follow suit, and had barely taken a seat near Cain when Sygil called out to Cain.

"How much are your services?"

Cain snorted as if he could not believe what he had heard, before craning his neck to face Sygil.

"Depends. Right now, I'm kinda not interested in offering my services. So why don't you – " "-That's not what I asked," warned Sygil, his features narrowed.

"How _much_ are your services currently."

Cain smirked as he stepped off of the barstool. He strutted up to Sygil until he was in his face.

"Much more than you could afford. Plus, I get extra bonuses as well. What would you offer?"

"I'm not. I was just curious is all."

Cain's features morphed into anger. "Are you done wasting my time cunt, cos' if you don't fuck off real soon, your life is gonna get pretty shitty pretty quickly."

"Then I guess we're done." With that, Sygil started to walk away. The mercenaries were inconsequential, and likely only loyal to money. They could be dealt with as needed. For now though, he might as well check up on Maxmillian to make sure he -

"THE FUCK YOU SAY!" A loud, angered shout rang out from across the room, gaining everybody's attention.

Sygil wanted to facepalm, noting the shout came from the table Maxmillian was currently seated at.

_Why?! Just for once, Maxmillian, be nice! Please!_

He was going to reprimand Maxmillian, but then two men started to brawl at Maxmillian's table.

 _What's going on?_ Those thoughts weren't limited to just Sygil, as everyone in the bar seemed to have the same thoughts.

Sygil strode over, quickening his pace, while Maxmillian stood up and addressed Sygil, subtly scooping up the loose coins on the table.

"Sir, I have gathered valuable intel. Would you like me to recount?"

"Belay that. What is going on?" He glanced at the two men fighting, and he ushered Maxmillian away from the fight so they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

A crash could be heard as one of the tables was knocked over. Ironically, the mercenaries who were meant to be guarding everyone decided to ignore the fight, leaving the bartender and a few waiters/waitresses to come over and try and pull the fighters apart, who continued to hurl both verbal and physical insult to each-other.

"Unfortunately, the one male I was talking to made reference to the 'Re-Estize army being nothing more than a rabble of peasants who couldn't win a dick-measuring contest even if they fought against a woman'. Apparently male two took offence, as he is a former Re-Estize soldier, and hence this fight occurred." Maxmillian was recalling without investing any emotion, droning on as if a robot.

"And you're sure you didn't say anything that might have pissed one of them off?" Sygil wanted to believe Maxmillian, but he couldn't help but voice his scepticism.

"Positive sir. You stressed being subtle and cooperative to gain information. It is their own fault for being so petty and stupid."

"Hmm, okay. Regardless, what did you get?" Sygil led them both to a quiet booth, where they both sat down. The fight died down as the bartender delivered a haymaker that knocked one of them out, and the second was dragged over and tossed out the door with a scream and a warning not to come back.

They paid them no heed, however, as it no longer concerned them.

"Apparently magic exists here, that's certain," began Maxmillian, leaning over to Sygil. "However, most mages average the Second Tier. Third if they’re good. And fourth if they are _really_ talented."

"And?" Prompted Sygil, still curious.

"Apparently, it's a racial limitation, much like in Yggdrasil."

Sygil frowned. _Did Yggdrasil's magic, and attributes carry over to this world somehow? Since levelling should be impossible in the real world. New or not._

"Furthermore," continued Maxmillian. "There are also numerous races of demihumans which inhabit this world and they often have their own limitations and adaptations of magic. There's not much more that was provided, so I feel further independent research needs to be conducted into the matter."

Sygil hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his thumb. "I see…"

"Did you find anything considering the Augustus' sir?"

Sygil steepled his hands, resting his chin on them. "Not much. They're apparently influential around here, and supposedly helped pull this town out of squalor years back. Now they run a farming business using slave labour. Interestingly, since there's no standing military presence here, it's up to contracted mercenaries. Even then, most of their duties, it would seem, are just policing the slaves."

Maxmillian frowned as he processed what little information he was provided. "Do we know how many mercenaries there are?"

"At this stage, no. But judging by the size of Merigold," he gazed at the patrons in the inn, "I would say there's probably not too many. They need housing, and considering all we've seen is farmland, it's probably safe to say that Beovhan keeps both his slaves and mercenaries close-by. A good defence, quick and easy to house and manage, and quick communications if something goes afoul."

"Are you certain that's the case, sir? I don't mean any disrespect at all," Maxmillian was quick to apologise, but Sygil waved him off. "Relatively. The question is, however, where are the slaves kept, how many of them are there, and how many mercenaries are there?"

"From what I managed to gleam, the slaves are housed in the town somewhere," supplied Maxmillian.

"Hmm. We need more information. And we need it without rousing suspicions," muttered Sygil thoughtfully. Maxmillian cocked his head, unsure of what his Creator was planning. "Sir?"

Sygil locked eyes with Maxmillian, who could feel them burning into him. "The best way to get the information we need is from the source itself. And we have access to three sources right now. One of which will probably be eager to help us…." While Sygil spoke deliberately, he did allow a small smile to form on his face.

"Do you mean the Demi-Human slave from the mansion?"

"Indeed."

Sygil leaned back as he spoke. "We're in a new world, Maxmillian. And while I have lost many advantages as a result, I have also been granted many new ones."

Maxmillian continued to listen with rapt attention. "The use of magic and Yggdrasil abilities in this world can potentially be a game-changer, and if exploited correctly… they can be a deciding one."

By now, Maxmillian was beginning to see what his Creator was starting to imply. However, Sygil continued resolutely, the shadows deepening on his features as he spoke.

"The presence of the flowers you observed in the Augustus' residence is indication that other potential ingredients for our research from Yggdrasil likely do exist here. Such ingredients can be used to create Holy and Unholy remedies alike. Something which I have much invested in for to quickly succeed. It is imperative, that I find and create these remedies as soon as possible."

"Forgive me for my lack of understanding sir, by why are you so keen on creating these remedies anyways?" Maxmillian was genuinely confused. His Creator was a Supreme Being, so surely nothing could be capable of harming him? Unless it was so he could reverse engineer the applications of such remedies to harm any Holy and Unholy opponents alike.

Sygil looked at the patrons and the surrounding brick and stone walls, illuminated with primitive torches and fire, before allowing the smirk to dissipate from his face, replaced with a more neutral expression.

"I have many enemies, Maxmillian. And while I do not know where they are currently, the threat they pose is very real. As such, it is imperative that we create these cures and ensure their application works. I'm no fool, however, and know such an endeavour of the magnitude before us will take time and resources." It wasn't exactly an answer to the question, but Maxmillian had no choice but to accept it.

"Earlier, you asked me what I planned on doing. Well, simple…" By now, Sygil was boasting a cruel smile as numerous thoughts and plans ran through his mind.

"I'm going to create an empire." He let the words hang in the air. By now, Maxmillian's brows were furrowed as he processed what Sygil had confided in him. Sygil continued.

"First, it will provide me the resources and manpower needed to expedite the creation of the cure I want. Secondly, it will allow me to eventually establish a power structure which I can use to deal with my enemies when the time comes."

"How do you intend to create an Empire though sir? If the maps are indeed accurate, then there are several contending kingdoms which could try to stop us." Maxmillian, while supportive of ensuring his Creator's desires were met, couldn't help but question how Sygil intended to go about achieving his empire with no starting resources.

Sygil chuckled. "Of course they will. If we tried to create one conventionally. However, where there are people, there are several definitive absolutes you can always count on, as evidenced by Mr Augustus. Greed, which fuels crime and war. Something, which I intend to exploit."

Sygil leaned forward, elbow propped on the table and hand suspended under his chin.

"The Augustus family supplies the Re-Estize kingdom with nearly 30% of its annual food supply. They are in a position of considerable control and as such, they have accumulated much wealth. Food is needed to fuel armies, and armies are needed to fight wars and keep citizens in line."

Maxmillian seemed to take the hint. "If we were to take control, we would be in a position of power to mould our own Empire…"

Sygil smiled approvingly. "Exactly."

Maxmillian found himself frowning, though. "How exactly are we going to take control, then? If we kill Beovhan and Clair off, we lose potential influence in the kingdom."

"Not necessarily. As a businessman, one sanctioned by the Re-Estize kingdom to supply its food, he must be under contract. Beovhan will likely have a deed, or some other signatory stating him to be the legal owner of this property. All we need to do is persuade him to hand it over to us. Once we are made the new signatory owners, we will legally own the food supplies, including the labour required to manage and protect the farms."

"But couldn't the Re-Estize simply view the contract as void since we weren't signatories to supplying the kingdom, and hire someone else in?" Maxmillian felt somewhat sceptical.

"It wouldn't matter, since the kingdom wouldn't own the property, we would. Therefore they are dependent on whoever is willing to supply it to them. And since we control 30% of it, we have our foot in the door to influence and leverage certain decisions. They would have to negotiate with us. Especially if we decided to withhold, or better yet, supply to another kingdom or organisation without affiliation to the Re-Estize."

"Couldn't they view that as treason though, giving them the justification to take it by force from us?"

"They would have to have a legitimate reason, as that could scare their other suppliers."

"That could work both ways though, sir. They could scare the suppliers into rebellion, or into submission."

Sygil, however, brushed the concern away.

"Either way, regardless, it's not a risk the kingdom would want to take immediately. We would have enough time to exploit other loopholes and further embed ourselves into their bureaucracy, as well as expand our influence into other sectors and even kingdoms. In the real world, it's not what you know, it's who you know. And we will eventually need connections. The sooner we get more, the better."

"And what about the slaves?"

"That is where our mutual friend Trisha will come in. Trisha was once a proud warrior, and, according to our hosts for tonight, was one of the stronger ones. Now I may be wrong, but in warrior cultures, the strongest are always respected. Which means, our dear slave can help us n ot only gain more _accurate_ information easily, but also likely help us secure, and establish, a new power structure." By now, Sygil was sporting a predatory smirk.

"If we can gain her loyalty, she would make a better candidate to help acquire the loyalty of the other slaves. Once we take control, we can make them indebted to us by granting them freedom. We'll use Trisha to ensure their loyalty towards us. Loyalty out of gratitude, instead of slavery. If they feel compelled to work for us out of sheer loyalty, we will have an established labour force that can keep the profits rolling in for us. Profits, which can be used to both expand our influence and capabilities, and to bring in the ingredients and supplies needed to create the remedies we need."

"And what if she refuses?"

Sygil smiled darkly. "Trust me. I have my ways…"

"And what about the townspeople and Clair?" Maxmillian was curious as to his Creator's plan.

"They'll be dealt with accordingly. For now, we'll need both Beovhan and Clair alive. At least, until we are in full control. As for the townspeople, that depends on whether they oppose us or not."

Maxmillian stared at Sygil, and even though he tried to maintain a neutral expression, it was difficult to express his awe at the genius of the One and Only Supreme Being, his Creator.

"At the dinner tonight, I want to finalise our information gathering from Beovhan. After that, we can organise an 'appointment' with our dear slave. From there, we can set things in motion."

"And the mercenaries? While I know we can deal with them, we don't know their numbers."

"They're only loyal to coin. Once we take control of the property and the associated wealth, they're loyalty will be bought. They will grant us the necessary army we need. All we need is one or two of the mercenaries to be witness to the transaction of the property as the deed is signed over. After that happens, we will be in direct control of the finances. Beovhan won't be able to stop us then."

"And Clair? What are your plans for her?"

"She helped emplace the seals on the slaves, so she can help release them."

Maxmillian nodded in affirmation of his Creator's plan. What his Creator desired, he got.

Sygil was here to take advantage of the new opportunities that the New World was so ready to provide, and he was going to exploit them to their fullest potential. And if anyone dared to step in his way, he would make certain it would be the last step they would ever take….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still can't find my password book :(  
> Now I'm behind schedule on my FFN.net posting. If I can't find it by tomorrow, then it'll be at least a week and a half before I post my rewrite there, and I'm to impatient for that. I already promised it by the other day, and that hasnt happened, so I'm going to create another FFN.net account and post to that if I cant get to my account by tomorrow.  
> Moving on, this chapter was literally a touch-up for a handful of sentences, some very minor dialogue tweaks, and no need to change the plot. Yay!!  
> Will be posting the next chapter tomorrow night, alongside the rewrite on FFN.net one way or another.  
> We're almost there!


	10. Born from Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to overlord and its respective content.  
> See end notes for announcements.

**Born from Blood**

The remaining time before the dinner was spent at the inn, grabbing more information from random, drunk patrons, and pickpocketing the odd coins. Honestly, it was petty, but they had to start somewhere.

Sygil had a plan, and he had the means to enact it. All he needed was to finish probing for information from Beovhan and Clair and he could begin to enact the first stages.

Currently, both Sygil and Maxmillian were headed back to the mansion to meet up with and have dinner with Beovhan and Clair.

They could see lights emanating from several of the windows in the multi-story building.

"Remember. We must be on our best behaviour. We're here as guests for now." Hopefully things would occur smoothly.

By now, they were at the front door, and Sygil wasted no time in knocking three times.

Clair's muffled voice could be heard from inside, calling them to wait a second as she came over.

The door opened, and the pair were greeted with the sight of Clair, dressed in a more elegant dress this time, complete with red flowery embroidery over a deeper pink cloth.

Sygil had to resist frowning at how deceitfully peaceful she looked, so he opted to brush his disgust aside and enter the mansion politely with Maxmillian in tow.

Clair led them both through the living room to a large and elaborate dining room that easily spanned the full length of the house.

The height of the room extended into the second floor, as evidenced by the balcony running along the inner wall of the dining room lengthwise. As Sygil entered he could make out several bookshelves behind the balcony on the second floor, with deep shadows cast by the absence of light.

Four impressive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, running directly above the table and helping to illuminate the room in a faint amber colour. However, the real source of light came directly from the lit fireplace behind the head of the table to the left, casting deep shadows from the high chairs at the long table.

The table itself could seat eight people on each side, plus an additional person at the head and foot of the table.

The table was a dark oak, with four white, cloth placemats and associated cutlery prepared for everyone. A glass of what Sygil presumed to be wine had been prepared for each of the four seats.

Beovhan could be seen seated at the head of the table, a cheerful smile plastered on his face.

"Ah, you made it!" He exclaimed, to which Clair responded cheerfully. "Indeed dear, and just in time too, dinner is just about ready!"

Clair gestured to the two seats opposite of hers for him and Maxmillian to sit at. Sygil was conscious his jacket/suit was rather dirty, and so he took it off to hang on a nearby seat, however Clair cut him off.

"There's no need to set it there. I can get it cleaned for you while we eat. It'll be ready and dry in an hour. Trisha!"

Not two seconds later, the maid practically came running from the room on the right. "Yes mistress?"

Clair gestured to the jacket Sygil was currently holding. "Take Sygil's jacket to Parmela to be washed and dried. Then come back and serve dinner. Be quick about it!"

Trisha bowed, before moving to Sygil to relieve him of his jacket. "Yes mistress."

As she grabbed the jacket, Sygil quietly observed the fresh cut and bruise on her right cheek. As she left, he could hazard a guess as to why she was sporting such an injury.

"Please, sit down. Dinner will be up in a minute," encouraged Clair, interrupting Sygil's thoughts. He did as he was told, as did Maxmillian.

"So, how was your visit in the town?" Beovhan was the first to speak up.

"Enlightening," replied Sygil politely.

"That's good. So I wanted to ask," began Beovhan curiously.

"I overhead you say you were part of the military, and your companion appears to be in uniform, correct? Could you tell us what exactly happened for you to be out here?"

"Yes, well," began Sygil, "Maxmillian and a security detail were escorting me, when we were attacked by bandits in the forest. We got separated, and as a result are trying to regroup."

"I thought you said you wound up in the forest and were lost?" Beovhan inquired, confused.

"Yes, well that was after we woke up in the forest," a half-truth. "We were lost, and then we got attacked. And now we are here. Really, there is not much more to add than what was mentioned."

Beovhan seemed to hum and ho, before dropping the matter reluctantly. It was clear from Sygil's tone he didn't want to discuss it any further. Frankly, Sygil didn't exactly bother to plan an alibi out since it was unnecessary and a waste of time. Not that it would even matter anyways. Especially with what was to come.

"I noticed the flowers in your living room vase. Alarosacea?"

"Yes, actually," Beovhan was quick to respond. "I'm surprised you know its name. Not many people do."

"Actually, it was Maxmillian who told me what it was."

Beovhan quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really now?"

"Yes. I was actually wondering where you got it from?" If he could find out, he might be able to procure more of it, and possibly even further ingredients.

"We actually got it from a trader last month. Surprised it’s lived as long as it has. Smells really nice, though," supplied Clair, who was finishing taking her own seat.

"Where is this trader, then?" If Sygil could find the source of the flowers, then perhaps he could acquire his own supply.

"Oh, he's a travelling merchant. Comes around roughly once a month. Say, dear, when abouts should he be here? It's been a while."

Beovhan cleared his voice. "Roughly, I'd say, a couple days now. Been nearly a month."

Sygil catalogued the information. "What exactly does he sell, then?"

"Oh, the rather pricey things, ornaments and other nifty items. Some pretty valuable goods hidden away amongst his stuff. He's a bit expensive, though. Doubt you'd be able to afford what he offers." Upon noticing Sygil's raised eyebrow, Beovhan seemed to realise how offensive that might have sounded and was quick to amend his words.

"Not that we mean you're poor, but it is a fact that his goods tend to sell quite expensively. His items usually cost gold."

So apparently gold was one of the higher currencies. Typical of medieval society. Then again, even modern contemporary society placed much value in authentic gold.

"I'm not too concerned about the price. Moreso just interested in what he might have to offer. What's his name?"

"Oh, his name's Reginold. Rather nice fella," smiled Beovhan fondly.

At that moment, Trisha returned with two large trays containing several plates of warm food.

Clair was quick to supervise where each plate was meant to go, and for who, even though the meals all looked identical.

 _It shouldn't really matter where it goes?_ Sygil was somewhat puzzled, but perhaps he was overthinking it. Then again, he still had a gut feeling about Clair and Beovhan.

Trisha left with the two empty trays in hand, before eventually returning and standing to the side of Beovhan, waiting dutifully for another order.

"Well, eat up!" began Beovhan cheerfully, before he and Clair both began to consume their meal.

Both Sygil and Maxmillian shared a subtle glance, suspicious of the meal before them.

It wouldn't surprise him if they had attempted to poison him and Maxmillian, Instead, he decided to open up a new conversation.

"So how many mercenaries do you have working for you? It would surely be expensive to maintain their services?"

Beovhan finished chewing on a piece of meat, before loudly swallowing and gesturing with his fork.

"You'd think it would be, but again, with the free slave labour we have here, it means our costs are considerably cut down. Plus, the mercenaries help contribute to our little economy here, buying our products and services, so it all works out really well in the end. Especially with maids like Trisha here, we can easily make 100 silver a day on the maids services alone sometimes. It all works out really well in the end, actually," Beovhan seemed convinced, and he proceeded to cut into another piece of meat.

Sygil smiled tightly. "So how many mercenaries do you have to help run this place? Surely you can't expect a small handful to manage such a large property with so many slaves and the 'savage tribes' as you put them?"

Beovhan smiled forlornly. "Not as many as you'd think. I actually have hired… 23? Some of the finest in the Kingdom, too! They've worked for me for the past couple of months."

"Only a couple months? But surely you would have had some security or guards before then also, right?"

Beovhan sighed, placing his silverware down. "Unfortunately, I had to rehire some new ones, after the previous lot died. Not exactly pleasant at the time."

"If I may ask, what happened?" Sygil was curious. Was there another threat lurking about? He would rather not deal with the associated hassle, but if there was, it would need to be dealt with.

"Oh, just a bunch of fools, that tried to assault one of my shareholders. Caused a lot of problems, so they had to be removed. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about that, as they volunteered to deal with the problem at hand. Free of charge, too."

Now, this was interesting.

"Who exactly are your shareholders, then? I thought you just supplied to the Kingdom?"

Beovhan seemed to hesitate, however. "That's… nothing you need to concern yourself over.

"Besides, I can't go telling you all my business secrets." Beovhan threw a small wink at him, changing the mood of the conversation.

_By the time I'm done, I will know it all._

Sygil chuckled lightly. "I suppose not."

Sygil decided to stall and cut into the steak on the plate. He assumed it was steak? Maxmillian mirrored his actions, but also refused to eat anything.

"So, how long have you owned this property? I'm assuming you are the legal owner, sanctioned by the Kingdom, correct?"

"Oh, yes that's true. I've owned it for ten years now. It was originally owned by the Kingdom, but lack of maintenance, and poorly trained and equipped workers meant that it was a liable asset that was costing the kingdom too much money to maintain. It was originally going to be divvied up between the nobles, but I offered to buy it, and in exchange for keeping more of the profits upon taxation, I would sell only to the King. Some of the other nobles kicked up a fuss, especially considering I was only a merchant at the time. Wealthy enough to just afford buying it. Within three years I turned Merigold into a prosperous little town."

Sygil hummed. _Privatisation. Does explain some things._

"I'm assuming since it's privatised, that explains why there is no active military presence or Kingdom sanctioned security?"

This time, it was Clair that responded with a forlorn sigh. "Well, that's only partly true."

Sygil looked at Clair curiously, but Beovhan answered instead. "What Clair means is, essentially it was the nobles that wanted this land. They either wanted to own it completely, or if not, see it burnt to the ground. However, the King refused. They felt entitled to the land, but I was willing to pay considerable coin, because I could see its potential for a long-term investment. Unlike the nobles. The King was more than willing to accept, after all, gold goes a long way to financing your kingdom, or your pockets. The nobles had no choice but to accept his decision, and they were pretty rank about it."

He took a small sip of wine, before addressing Sygil and Maxmillian with thin lips.

"They managed to convince the King that, since the land was now privately owned, they had no obligation to defend it and waste money on its security and wellbeing."

Sygil managed to fill in some of the blanks. "And since you essentially nearly bankrupted yourself buying it, they figured you would go under in no time due to bandits, the tribes and other financial hardships."

"Yes. Essentially, it was their way of giving me a big 'fuck you' since I spoiled their little self-entitled plans. Especially since I'm not of noble blood." By now, Beovhan was sporting a sour look, before adopting a smirk.

"So imagine their surprise when within the first year I had already established a somewhat competent labour force. All free of course. Those rotten bastards thought I would go bankrupt on just hiring the labour alone. They forgot a little something though. When I bought the property, I also acquired the rights and ownership of Merigold. And I used that to also help generate revenue to support my farming. Once the first shipment reached the capital, they were surprised. None of the produce was spoiled, and it was of considerable quality. Much higher than even they managed to generate when they owned it originally."

Beovhan let loose a low chuckle. "Oh the looks on their faces when I told them business was up and running, and that the next year's harvest would be even bigger. And of course, it was."

Sygil remained silent, letting Beovhan speak.

"By the second year, I had established a full labour force, gotten the town up and running, and even managed to bring in a couple new residents to help keep the town running. That seemed to piss the nobles off. I then managed to start hiring a full protective detail. 20 mercenaries. Small group, but ex-soldiers and adventurers. Well trained. Easily Gold level and above. By the third year, I had recovered all of my losses, including hiring the mercenaries and helping restore the town. By then, the nobles wanted the land back because of the money I was making. They demanded I hand it back since it was originally government property. Of course I didn't, though. I bought it, and I kept to my end of the deal by supplying only to the King, and therefore I could do as I saw fit. That pissed them off even more. They tried to threaten me into handing it over, hiring criminals to harass me. Of course, they weren't the only ones with connections," he smiled deviously.

"By the fifth year, everything had been sorted out, and we all came to a mutual understanding. They had to begrudgingly accept that I now was both wealthy and powerful, and they couldn't dip their grubby paws into my profits. Now… things have been smooth as glass. They still do piss-all for giving me protection, but if my property were threatened, because of my value in supplying to the King, they would be obligated to send an army to defend it. Of course, since it's privately owned land, however, I would have to fork the bill, and keeping an army on standby costs a pretty coin. So it's only ever if in an emergency. It was one of the mutual understandings we came to."

Sygil absorbed all that was told to him like a sponge. Beovhan had revealed more than he realised.

Much of the dinner was spent with mostly Sygil, and sometimes occasionally Maxmillian, asking questions while trying to avoid consuming the food before them. Mostly trivial things were revealed and discussed.

"So is the property set to be inherited, or sold, when you retire, or what…." Trailed of Sygil, hoping to elicit an answer.

"Actually, we are thinking of leaving it to our child," supplied Clair fondly. Judging by the way she was glancing at and rubbing the top of her noticeable stomach bulge, she was referring to her unborn child.

"So is that your only child?" Asked Sygil with a smile on his face.

"Yes. Beovhan Augustus the Second. I think it has a ring to it!" Proclaimed Beovhan proudly, resulting in a scoff and roll of the eyes from Clair.

"So unoriginal. Besides, we don't know if it is a boy even."

"Well, whatever it is, we will grant our child with the best life possible." Beovhan had a loving and fond smile on his face as he spoke, locking eyes with Clair who returned the smile.

 _I almost feel bad for what is about to come._ Sygil crushed those thoughts just as quickly as they came, however. Now was not the time for emotional compromise. His life and his sister were at stake.

"So, I hate to be a bother, but you did want to discuss some employment opportunity with Maxmillian and I, and so far we have managed to steer the conversation away from that." Sygil tried to maintain a light tone of voice, not wanting to come off as rude. It was unprofessional, after-all.

"Ah yes," Beovhan cleared his throat before diverting his full attention to Sygil and Maxmillian.

"Now, I know you said you weren't interested earlier, but I implore you to consider what I have to offer."

Sygil had to resist rolling his eyes. _That's just what I asked you._

"I'm always looking to employ people around here, both in the town, and as part of my personal work force. I figured, since you'd be staying here for a while, that you'd appreciate having a job to earn some food and shelter?"

Both Sygil and Maxmillian shared a quick glance.

"I never stated that I was interested in staying here, nor am I looking at working for you or anyone." Sygil narrowed his eyes at Beovhan, who tried to press again.

"But come now! Surely you'd appreciate a good, stable job – " "- Did you not acknowledge the part where I made mention that Maxmillian and I were part of a military detail. Even if I wanted to, we are under no obligation to serve anyone else." That was a lie, but they didn't need to know that.

Beovhan seemed to furrow his brows.

"Hmmpf. Fine. But you should eat up, you haven't had anything! Neither you or your compatriot Maxmillian!"

"We're not exactly hungry…" Began Sygil warily. He still kept getting a bad vibe from the man, and right now, it seemed to intensify. However, before Beovhan could continue, the front door could be heard opening, followed the loud metallic footsteps indicating heavy armour.

"I'm here for her, like you promised. 10 silver, now come with me you dumb animal."

There was no mistaking Cain's voice under the heavy armour as he gestured to Trisha.

Clair seemed to splutter, unimpressed. "Really, Cain?! Now?! Can't you see we're-" "Yeah, I can see you're talking with your husband to…" His voice seemd to trail off as he recognised Maxmillian and Sygil.

"Cain, was it?" Mused Sygil.

"The hell they doin' here?" Gestured Cain to Sygil and Maxmillian tersely.

"We're in the middle of having a conversation," began Beovhan in exasperation. "Why can't you come back later."

Cain waved his arms in protest. "I'm not here to interrupt. Just here to borrow your maid is all. Here, I got the 10 Silver here now," he reached into a pouch and produced some coins, before Clair sighed.

"I suppose it'll be fine. We can get one of the other maids to clean up for dinner until Trisha is available."

"I suppose," relented Beovhan. "At dinner though, Cain? Next time, can you NOT interrupt me during a discussion Cain. Especially at meal-time." His face was pulled taut as he shot a pointed look at Cain, who seemed indifferent. Or not. Sygil couldn't tell with the armour.

"Sure, whatever." Cain spoke without real care behind the words, chucking them out as if they were part of a boring recital. He barely dropped the coins on the table near Clair when he reached over and roughly grabbed Trisha by her arm to pull her away.

Sygil didn't fail to notice the look of discomfort on her face as he started to drag her to the door way he came in from. He also didn't fail to notice the opportunity before him.

"Actually, Maxmillian and I need to relieve ourselves. Could you be willing to point us where to go, Beovhan?"

"Oh, of course. Cain!"

Cain came to a halt when Beovhan called out to him, seemingly irritated judging by the tightening of his gauntlets.

"Could you lead our guests to where they can relieve themselves. Thank-you."

He didn't even wait for Cain to dispute as Maxmillian and Sygil stood up and walked to where Cain was.

"Fine..." hissed the armoured mercenary in annoyance. "Come with me. Don't get lost on the way back."

"Charming personality," muttered Maxmillian with a roll of his eyes. Sygil couldn't agree more.

As they left the dining room, no-one noticed the frown on Clair's face as Beovhan looked at the untouched plates of food where their guests were seated nought but a moment ago.

* * *

The group of four were standing at the base of a stairwell which led to the second floor. Currently, Cain was pointing down the far end of an adjacent hallway.

"That door leads to an outhouse, which you can use. Now excuse me, but I have things I need to do."

With what Sygil assumed was a contemptuous sneer, Cain hauled the hapless maid up the stairs to somewhere, leaving Sygil and Maxmillian alone in the hallway for several quiet seconds.

"Maxmillian."

"Yes sir?"

"I believe it's time for us to begin acquiring our dear slave's loyalty."

"It is as you wish, sir! What would you have me do, sir?"

"I need you go back to the dinner with Mr and Mrs Augustus, and keep them occupied. Once I am done talking to Trisha, I will come down so we can visit and _discuss_ the terms of an agreement with Beovhan."

Maxmillian couldn't help but allow a savage grin to form on his face, already knowing what his Creator was planning to do. He bowed forth to Sygil, placing a hand over where his heart was. "Of course. It is as you desire."

"Good. Stall them, but don't harm them. Yet…." Sygil needed some time to prepare, even if briefly.

Maxmillian stood upright, a resolute expression plastered across his face, before he left Sygil alone and went back to the dining room.

All alone now, all Sygil had to do now, was find where Cain had taken the maid.

Since he had a rough idea of what Cain intended, he knew he was likely looking for a private room. Looking at the stairs, Cain had gone to the second floor. All he needed to do was search for whichever room the two had likely gone to.

Climbing the stairs, he was greeted with a long hallway that extended in both directions, plus a smaller hallway directly in front of him. Pausing, he tried to guess which direction Trisha was taken.

His gut instinct told him it was probably down the right hallway, since it went the furthest.

As he began to leisurely stroll down the hallway, he instinctively tugged on his right glove to tighten it.

Coming to the end of the hallway, he was greeted with several closed doors on both walls opposite each-other.

 _"Just let me go!"_ A muffled feminine voice could be heard behind the far door on his left.

_Guess that resolves the mystery of where Trisha is then…._

Standing in front of the door, he could hear some more muffled speaking. Figuring there was no time like the present, he reached for the door handle, twisted the knob and opened it.

* * *

"Yeah, you fucking bitch! Scream for me!" An audible smack could be heard, and Sygil caught the tail-end of Cain back-handing Trisha across the face.

He was greeted with another rather repulsive sight, though he did not let his disgust show.

Currently, Cain was stripped down entirely naked, rubbing his visible erection into Trisha's dressed stomach as he held her pinned against the wall, desperately trying to undress her.

Judging by her distraught and disgusted look, Sygil could easily piece together what was occurring before him.

Cain somehow didn't notice Sygil enter the dimly lit room, too engrossed in his sexual lust. Trisha, however, shot her eyes to him as he closed the door behind him with an audible click.

"Ah, Trisha. Just the person I was looking for!" Exclaimed Sygil politely.

That seemed to gain Cain's attention, who immediately spun around from his victim to face Sygil with a look of shock on his face.

He sputtered out indignantly, face red with anger. "What the-! What the fuck are you doing here?!"

Sygil slowly strode forth to the duo, walking around the bed, and blocking any chance of escape.

"I'd just like to have a word with miss Trisha."

Flicking a wrist, he summoned a Shadow Hound, its smoky silhouette taking shape, with its snarling envisage resting clearly on Cain with a hungry look. Cain's face morphed from indignant surprise into terror, seeing such a supernatural monster being summoned.

"That's not a problem, is it?"

Cain glanced to the side where his sword was resting atop of his armour and haphazardly thrown clothes.

"Don't worry, I'll get to you in a moment," reassured Sygil. "Though, I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Sygil, seeing what Cain was intending.

Cain realised the situation was not exactly to his advantage, so he released his grip on Trisha who started rubbing her face where she was smacked.

"Fucking leave me alone!" There was no mistaking the fear in his voice.

"Then stay silent. I just want to discuss some things with Trisha, and I'd hate to have to rip out your tongue to keep you quiet for now." Sygil allowed a small smirk to form on his face as Cain's eyes were glued to the shadow hound that was slowly coming closer, letting loose a low growl.

Sygil diverted his attention back to Trisha, who was currently eyeing both him and the hound with caution.

"Hello Trisha," he began, offering a disarming smile.

"I don't think we've been fully introduced. My name's Sygil Amadeus. Would you mind telling me your full name? Please?" Being polite would go a long way into establishing a hopefully beneficial relationship. Cain's whimpering could be heard.

Currently the shadow hound was directly in front of him, its teeth mere centimetres from him. However, Sygil ignored it all. The hound wouldn't attack him unless provoked to do so. Or he ordered it to.

Trisha remained silent, a wary look in her eyes, so Sygil continued. "Not too talkative? That's alright. I understand you're a little sceptical right now, but before you cement your opinion of me, allow me to at least offer a 'business proposition' for you, and your enslaved brethren."

Trisha still maintained her silence, and only Cain's soft whimpers could be heard. "Get this fucking thing away from me, do you hear!" Cain whisper-shouted. Sygil ignored him, however.

"I want to, and am capable of, give you your freedom back. I can see to it that you are never abused ever again, never made the slave of a selfish monster of a 'master'."

He noted Trisha's dead, yet desperate eyes, were starting to level up with his own.

 _Good_. He had caught her attention, so he continued his case, ensuring he spoke gently and softly.

"You, and your fellow slaves, would be free again under me."

"Why should I believe you. All the other humans have lied to us, and done nothing but hurt my sisters and I." For someone with such dead and desperate eyes, there was no mistaking the steely contempt under her voice.

He let his face fall into a more neutral expression. "I make it a professional practice to never lie, and I won't sugar-coat it. Your freedom will cost you. While I can ensure you and your sisters are delivered from slavery and harm, I will expect something in return. Something only you and your sisters can provide."

Trisha's gaze somewhat hardened in disgust. "We're not playthings for you!"

"I can assure you, my intentions are anything but."

He strode over to the adjacent wall where Trisha was and leaned back on it, crossing his arms, never removing his gaze from her.

"I intend on solidifying my own control here, and your current masters are in the way of that. By the time this night is over, I will control all of Beovhan's assets and property, and that would include his slaves. Such as you…. However, that would also leave me with many liabilities," he shot a distasteful glance to the pinned Cain, "and therefore I would have to remove them. And slaves make for unhappy and therefore unreliable employees. I would hate to have to terminate everyone, as that would leave me with nothing." With that, he stepped off from the wall and approached Trisha, who seemed to subconsciously straighten up.

"Of course, if you and your sisters were to pledge your fealty to me, then you would all be under my employ, and therefore my protection. So what say you? I can personally deliver to you and your enslaved sisters your freedom, your safety and provide you protection. You will never have to fear being abused again. No-one will rape you again, hurt you again, try to degrade you. You will have proper homes and housing, clean food and water and be paid for your work without having to worry about being harmed. All I ask for is you and your sisters undying loyalty." He held out his hand for her to clasp.

Trisha seemed to stare at his hand tentatively, before looking up at him with resolution.

"And sell myself out to another human who will lie! I was raised with more honour than that."

He couldn’t help but frown at her stubbornness. "And Gallheia didn't sell you out?" That seemed to strike a nerve in Trisha as she defensively spat back at him, proving his theory of a connection between the two.

"How dare you! She would never!"

Sygil was just as quick to retort, however. "Then how come you are still a slave for so many years? Where was Gallheia when you and your sisters were killed and captured. Where was she all this time when you and your sisters were held captive? Where was she when you were humiliated and degraded, tortured, beaten and raped?"

He could see each point he made seemed to visibly shake her resolve, as she was forced to contend with the possibility.

"The way I see it, she abandoned you. You and your sisters."

"No," she protested weakly. Sygil didn't care, however, and he continued coldly.

"She never cared about you or your sisters, otherwise she would have attempted to rescue you all."

"That's not true," by now her voice was cracking. She was almost at a breaking point.

"Then why did she leave you all to such a terrible fate?"

By now, he could see several tears beginning to form in her eyes as painful memories resurfaced.

"Because… because we weren't strong enough. We were too weak…." Her voice was now pitiful and warbled.

"You're only weak because you choose to be. Instead of acknowledging your situation and trying to become stronger, you've allowed yourself to wallow in your despair. That is why you are weak. Not because you couldn't win against insurmountable odds. But because you allowed yourself to remain a victim."

By now, she was beginning to cry, though she tried, and failed, to repress her hitched sobs. Was it cruel of him to make her feel this way, especially in the face of all the abuse she had suffered over the years? Conjuring up terrible memories? Perhaps, but it was better this was addressed now rather than later. Besides, he could use her flood of negative emotions to help guide her into the direction he wanted, and so he pressed on.

"However, where Gallheia sees weakness, I see strength. Despite everything, you have persevered, and survived. It takes strength to continue on with such resolve. So you aren't truly weak. You're just lost."

Sygil pursed his lips as he sighed, lowering his hand before turning to face where Cain was, the shadow-hound growling in his face. He could hear the odd, faintly hitched sob from Trisha.

"I can offer you a chance to feel strong again, freeing you and your enslaved sisters. And considering what I am offering in exchange for so little, I think the price is well worthwhile. However," he adopted a more hardened tone as he strode over to the petrified mercenary.

"I only offer this opportunity once. I suggest you choose wisely, for you might never receive such an opportunity again… especially by the time I am done tonight."

By now he was standing before the mercenary. He slowly turned to face Trisha again, who now looked conflicted.

"So. What will it be?" He opened his arms as if to strike a welcome gesture.

Trisha glanced at him and then back at the mercenary, who decided to brave speaking.

"Do you truly think you will get away with what you are planning?!"

"I already have," shot Sygil with a smirk. "All that matters at this point is what side you take Trisha."

"I… I…" she sounded defeated.

"I know. Perhaps a little incentive, and a show of good faith is needed," suggested Sygil, shooting a glance at the cowering mercenary.

He shot his left hand forth, wrapping it around Cain's windpipe and constricting his airway, before hoisting him off the ground. The hapless mercenary struggled with all of his might, but he was barely able to let loose a gurgle, let alone try to pry the Sygil's vice-like grip.

"I'll give you a choice," he began. "Cain here was going to rape you; abuse you and hurt you. And I know you don't like that at all. So, I'll let you decide his fate."

Trisha's eyes seemed to widen a little bit at this, her full attention on him.

"You can either release him. Or, you can just say the word, and I'll kill him, right here, right now. Or, you can take that sword," he gestured to Cain's sheathed sword resting atop of his armour, "and you can kill him yourself. No matter your choice, I won't stop you. But I think, regardless, you have a right to choose your own destiny. And if you serve beside me, I can grant you that."

He let the words hang in the air, while Cain began to more desperately struggle.

Trisha seemed to remain silent for several agonising and tense seconds, internally contemplating her choices. Was this really a chance to be free again? To help restore the freedom of her sisters? And reclaim her stolen honour?

Looking at Sygil, and then Cain, one last time, she struggled to come to a conclusion. If she wanted her freedom, she would have to take it, but she ultimately didn't know if she could trust Sygil.

Hardening her resolve, she looked Sygil square in the eyes. "And how can I trust you?"

"You can't. It's a risk you're going to have to take." Sygil's words weren't exactly reassuring, but so far, he seemed to be projecting honesty with his intentions.

"And what would you do with him?" She gestured to Cain.

"Would you like to find out?" Suggested Sygil playfully, enjoying every moment of Cain's terror.

"Let's see… I promised I would get to you, Cain." Now, Sygil was diverting his focus back onto Cain, who was struggling to breathe by this point.

"Now, when we first met, you were a bit of a prick anyways, but this?” He gestured to his stripped state and Trisha. “This takes the cake! Now, I’ll have you know that, while I don’t have a problem endorsing murder, torture or genocide even, I _do_ have standards as a professional. And rape? Rape is _soooo_ unprofessional,” he drawled dispassionately.

“Torture, murder, genocide, war, extortion and profiteering, while all technically depraved in their own manner, can be moulded to serve a purpose. Rape, though? Well, unless you want to demoralise your victims, it serves no real purpose. All rape is, is just a sign of an immature individual who fails miserably at self-control, constraint and is solely interested in self-gratification without concern for consequence or ramifications. All it does is show how pathetic, stupid and utterly useless you are. And I don't like useless people… Especially, when I am trying to create my own empire." He tightened his grip on Cain's throat, as each passing word become harder and colder.

"And you know what I do to useless people?"

Sygil grinned savagely, while Cain's eyes seemed to bulge with terror.

"I discard them." And with that he released his grip on Cain, shoving him forward with the same arm, whilst his right hand shot over his left shoulder, summoning his sabre. And with a horizontal swing, he cleanly cut through Cain's neck before he could protest.

There wasn't much blood, his severed head resting on his body, teetering briefly before his body toppled over unceremoniously, with his head dropping straight down and landing with a dull thud.

Trisha watched on with shock, surprised when he summoned his own sword.

She watched Cain's head briefly roll on the floor-boards, before glancing back at Sygil who had by now dematerialised his sabre as if he never had it to begin with.

"Well, that takes care of one thing I suppose," commented Sygil off-handed, before facing Trisha again.

"So, what will you do? Will you join me, or are you going to squander your opportunity?"

* * *

Maxmillian couldn't help but allow a small sneer of contempt to mar his face after being subjected to questioning by Mr and Mrs Augustus. While he was ordered not to be directly antagonistic to the couple, he didn't have to like them. And he had plenty not to like about them.

His Creator was sceptical of the meal prepared, and so out of curiosity he had attempted to discern if it was poisoned. Either he lacked a sufficient enough ability to detect poisoning, or they were just that good at hiding it, but he couldn't detect any poison. However, he did run an appraisal on all plates presented. And suffice to say, there was evidence of magical tampering on both his and Sygil's meals, but not on the couples.

He couldn't exactly detect what it was, but there _was_ something. Therefore, he refused to touch the meal, and simply stalled for time until his Creator would return.

And return he did.

"I apologise for taking so long," came the despondent voice of Sygil, who was just now entering the room through the doorway he had exited.

He strode over to the table where Clair was, while Maxmillian stood up and approached Sygil.

"Sir!"

Maxmillian's low voice caught Sygil's attention and he stopped in his tracks until Maxmillian caught up to him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"You were correct to be suspicious of the meals. I have detected magical tampering with our meals only. Unfortunately, I cannot determine what exactly it is. Are we going to proceed?"

Sygil allowed himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes, before opening them with an exhale.

"Yes," he quietly replied back, gesturing to Beovhan. With that Maxmillian stepped back from Sygil and walked to behind Beovhan, who was currently looking at the duo quizzically.

By now, Sygil was behind Clair.

"So Beovhan, since you own this property, I would be correct in assuming that you signed a deed, or some other legally binding document to prove you have ownership of this land, correct?"

"Well, yes? Might I ask what you are doing, you haven't touched your dinner at all?" Beovhan was acting confused, as was Clair.

Sygil rested a hand on Clair's shoulder. "Oh well, business before pleasure unfortunately." And with that, he summoned his sabre, placing it directly against Clair's throat.

Beovhan's eyes went wide, but Maxmillian had already drawn his own sabre and placed it against his throat, holding him back with a firm grip on the shoulder.

"What are you doing!" exclaimed Beovhan, while Clair shrieked.

"I am conducting some simple business," replied Sygil innocently. "I'd hate for things to get messy, so I suggest you calm down and remain seated."

The couple had no choice but to concede.

"Now then, let's start with a simple question to sate my curiosity. What did you do to our dinner?"

"What are you talking about, we didn't do anything?! Unhand me at ONCE!" Beovhan was roaring in protest.

Sygil frowned, while Maxmillian tightened his sword around his throat.

"Then why, when I conducted an appraisal, did I detect magical tampering?" snarled Maxmillian.

Clair's eyes went wide with shock, and Beovhan suddenly glanced furtively at her. The actions failed to go unnoticed by both Maxmillian and Sygil.

When Sygil didn't get a response, he sighed. "At this stage, I suppose it doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is this property, Beovhan."

"What do you want…" spat Beovhan, all pretence of being a kind, cheerful man gone.

"Simple," grinned Sygil. "I want you to sign over the deed for this entire property, surrender all of your assets and wealth to me, and I want Clair to release the seals on the slaves so they are freed."

Beovhan looked at him as if he grew a second head.

"You have got to be joking. On what world would you think I would ever do that?!"

"This one," retorted Sygil sharply. "Now, we're all going to take a trip to your office, where you will draft a new deed signing over all of your property, assets and slaves over to me. We will all sign it, since legitimacy is important after all. From there," he faced Clair, " _you_ will undo the magical seals on the slaves. Failure to do so…" He summoned two of his shadow hounds, their snarling envisage helping to _persuade_ Beovhan to see his point. Fear could make an excellent motivator, after all.

"… will result in a fate far worse than death. Of that, I can guarantee."

Beovhan shot a furious look at Sygil, trying to act brave in the face of such monstrosities.

"You wouldn't dare! You need us alive if you even _hope_ to get what you want!" Beovhan was certain of it, Sygil wouldn't risk killing him or Clair.

Sygil raised an eyebrow in disinterest. "Hmmmm. That's not quite true, though…. I need _you_ alive to sign over the assets. Clair, here though? While killing her would mean the slaves couldn't have their seals undone immediately, it would only be a temporary inconvenience at best." He adopted a cruel smile as he lowered his sabre to rest gently on Clair's rather noticeable stomach bulge.

"And let's not forget about your unborn child. While I would hate to have to kill a child, especially one that's not even born yet, but I'm not averse to it if need be. I would suggest you don't test me, Beovhan."

Clair's breath hitched, though she daren't move for fear of resulting in harming her unborn child. Beovhan, however, looked like he wanted to kill him, but it didn't take long for him to realise the futility of his situation and sigh in defeat. Though, such defeat looked as if it drained him of his very soul as he slumped down at his seat, uncaring of the sword pressed against his throat. And so he whispered in a meagre and pathetic voice.

"I… concede. Just don't hurt them, please."

"So long as you conform." Sygil slowly removed his sabre, gesturing for both Clair and Beovhan to stand up, to which they slowly did, careful so as not to provoke both the sabre wielding men and their supernatural pet hounds.

"Now, Beovhan, if you would be so kind as to lead the way to your office. And remember, no funny business." The warning was clear as day.

Beovhan tightened his fists in frustration, before releasing them. "This way," he gritted out. Sygil allowed a satisfied smile to remain plastered on his face.

* * *

Beovhan's office was cluttered with various books and records. Despite this, however, he still managed to keep it somewhat organised.

A rather large office desk sat in the centre of the room, with two guest chairs sitting in front. Behind the desk were several wooden shelves, each containing stacks of parchment, scrolls and other items to help catalogue and record daily business proceedings and the like. A large, gold-framed painting of some family member hung on the wall to the side, while several candles helped illuminate the room to be much brighter than expected.

Sygil gestured to the two guest seats. "Please, take a seat Clair. Beovhan. Find the deed for this property, and a clean parchment. Don't waste my time."

Clair took a seat uncomfortably as she watched her husband open a drawer to start procuring what Sygil wanted. Meanwhile, the hounds scattered to the sides of the desk.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, Beovhan produced both the deed and a clean paper parchment.

"Good," smiled Sygil, walking over to sit behind the desk, while gesturing for Beovhan to take the remaining empty seat, which he did reluctantly.

"Now," began Sygil, leaning forward, whilst Maxmillian kept his sabre wrapped around Clair's throat.

"Let's have a look at your deed, shall we?" And with that he grabbed the deed from Beovhan, taking note of several official wax seals melted on, and began to read.

" **I, King Ramposa III, hereby decree that the property surrounding, and subsequently, the town of Merigold, are to be considered the lawful and rightful possession of Beovhan Juda Augustus. For the exception that you supply all produce harvested solely to the acting Government of the Kingdom of Re-Estize, you are hereby granted full and complete ownership of the town of Merigold, and all surrounding land for a 2 league radius in either direction, reduced taxation on all exports and subsequent profits at a set 15% per annum. As the sole, legal owner of this property, while you are hereby granted certain exemptions, you also acknowledge that you are entirely responsible for said property, and under no circumstances will you be reimbursed, whether due to poor investment choices, unsustainable crops, natural or religious disaster, or invasion.**

**You agree to the bill of sale of 115,000 Gold, while agreeing to the terms provided.**

**Signed: _ Ramposa III_ B.J. Augustus_** ".

Sygil laid the deed down on the table, looking at Beovhan. "Now, I want you to write exactly what I tell you to, word for word. No exception. I needn't remind you of the penalty for failure to comply?" He shot a glance at Clair.

Begrudgingly, Beovhan had no choice but to accept, so he grabbed a quill on the table, the clean parchment, and placed it in front of him to write.

"Now," began Sygil. "Write after me."

" **I** , **Beovhan Juda Augustus, hereby pass inheritance to my successor, Sygil Amadeus, complete and full ownership of all properties, assets and labour previously and currently owned, including the town of Merigold, as decreed by the Bill of Sale approved by King Ramposa III.**

**All financial, property and labour assets are formally recognised as belonging to Sygil Amadeus, and to do with as he deems appropriate.**

**Signed: _ ."**

Sygil spoke slowly and deliberately to allow for Beovhan to keep up with writing. After several minutes of waiting for Beovhan to finish transcribing, Sygil took the unsigned but otherwise completed new deed from him to read and confirm.

Everything was written exactly as he specified, so he allowed a satisfied smile to creep onto his face.

He gently sat the new deed down besides the old one.

"Now that we have done the first part, we are all going to sign it, and you are going to stamp your seal upon the deed to further legitimise it." It was an order stated as fact.

"You can't be so preposterous so as to assume you can get away with this ridiculous crime you are committing," shot Beovhan.

"Crime you say? Oh my dear friend, this isn't a crime, this is a simple business transaction whereupon you have agreed to transfer all of your assets and property to me as part of an inheritance. And you are going to agree to it, especially if you value you and your wife's life…."

"This farce of a contract would never hold valid under a Court of Nobles! It's obvious to anyone that you have forced us to do this under duress! We have rights within the system, and you will not get away with this!" By now, Beovhan was snarling at him, some spittle flying.

Sygil couldn’t help but be amused at Beovhan’s hypocrisy.

“Rights, you say? Like the rights you afforded your labour task? Kidnapping, enslavement, sterilisation, torture and sexual slavery? Those rights?”

By now, Sygil was laughing.

“Ah, that made my day. But,” Sygil’s laughter began to fade, “you are still a hypocrite.”

Clair shot a hateful look in direction. "So we should accept you trying to rob us of everything?! Even though you are doing exactly what you are preaching is ‘wrong’?!"

"Yes. Because unlike you, I haven't lied. My intentions are always honest. Whether they are harmful or not is subjective to perspective, but I never lie, especially to myself. Such dishonesty is a disservice to one’s goals.”

Sygil shot a hardened glare at the couple before him.

“No matter the pathway you choose in life, you should always commit to it with unwavering devotion. Don't dare try to hide behind your choices with false words and lies! You chose to seek personal benefit via exploitation, but now that you are no longer in control, you try to lie, not only to me, but yourselves! That is just pathetic, and proves you are nothing more than a coward. You have committed yourselves to this path, so you should accept its outcome, no matter what it is. After all, you reap what you sow.”

He leaned back in the chair slowly, locking eyes with Beovhan. "I know that despite everything, we are all made of sin. We live a life based on sin, so for any of us to preach moral superiority is hypocritical from the get-go. The way I see it, karma is working its sweet way back to you.”

“Then know that you’ll get your comeuppance,” spat Beovhan hatefully.

“Oh most likely,” smirked Sygil. “However, I have to wait a little longer. You’re first in line after all.”

Leaning forward, he slid the new deed over to Beovhan and Clair.

"Now. I think it's due time you signed this." The whole time, he had a smug smile plastered on his face.

Beovhan slowly grasped the quill, shooting Sygil a filthy look as he reluctantly began to sign the parchment, before passing it to Clair.

"Contrary to what you might think, young man, this is not valid at all."

"But it is. You wrote it after all, and you have signed it." Clair finished signing it, so Sygil took it back and added his own signature. "Congratulations, and thank you for this wonderful business transaction. Your generosity is unparalleled." He shot a savage grin at Beovhan, just as knock on the door outside the office was heard.

"Ah, right on time," exclaimed Sygil. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal Trisha alongside two mercenaries.

The mercenaries were both from the bar earlier. One was the woman with blond hair and emerald eyes, while the other was the large, muscular and heavily scarred mercenary sporting the buzz-cut and goatee.

"Please, come in everyone," gestured Sygil. Trisha entered and quickly stood to the side, while the two mercenaries uncertainly entered. That was, until they registered several things. The first was the sword Maxmillian had pressed against Clair's throat. The second was the two smoky shadow hounds sitting either side of the desk. The third was Sygil sitting behind the desk with a smug look on his face.

Instinctively, they both drew their swords, but before they could, the shadow hounds leapt up, ready to attack while Sygil spoke calmly.

"Welcome. Now before we get all jumpy and overreact, I would like to remind everyone that we are currently in a rather curious predicament, where violence is currently ill-advised. Please put away your swords, or you won't receive payment for your services."

The woman mercenary was quick to adopt a defensive stance, ready to defend and attack, while shooting a hard glare at Sygil.

"What are you talking about! Unhand Mr and Mrs Augustus right now!"

Sygil deftly grabbed the freshly signed deed, standing up to proudly hold it for the two mercenaries to see.

"Why, I am referring to the newly signed deed stating me to be the legal owner of this property effective immediately. That means I am now your new employer. So I suggest you lower your weapons, and please! Come see the deed for yourself. Maxmillian, release your sword from Clair. I am sure she knows it's futile to try anything."

Maxmillian did as he was told, and the two mercenaries cautiously strode forth, wary of the newcomers by the desk. The scarred mercenary leaned over to grab the new deed, glancing over it and noticing the signatures.

After both mercenaries finished reading over and confirming its authenticity, the same mercenary handed it back to Sygil. And then he spoke in a deep voice.

"We were hired by Beovhan, therefore our contract is with him. Not you. Now, I suggest you step away from these two, and come quietly with us."

Sygil couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, you fool. I own Beovhan's assets, including your pay. He can't pay you anything, not anymore. Therefore, your 'contract', is null and void."

The mercenary's eyes narrowed, and he spoke again.

"You are an upstart brat. Unless you have a death wish, stand down."

The hounds started to growl and snap their teeth, and Maxmillian placed a firm grip on Clair's shoulder, sabre at the ready.

Sygil wanted to facepalm at the mercenary's idiocy, but refrained from doing so.

"You're a mercenary. Your loyalty is to money only. Not to anyone or anything else."

The mercenaries both readied their swords, and the scarred one spoke again coldly. "We have a contract currently, and you are a threat."

Sygil sighed in exasperation, placing both hands on the table he was leaning over. "And you really want to go this way? Think carefully, because I don't offer second chances to employees."

The mercenary ignored him, and stated, "Stand down!"

The words had no sooner left his mouth when a materialised shadow spike erupted from the ground and impaled him from the posterior, running inside through his abdomen and chest and shooting out through his mouth and the bridge of his nose. A loud squelching sound could be heard from the piercing of flesh.

Clair and Beovhan looked on with shock , both of whom were tasting sweet freedom again. Meanwhile, the female mercenary was temporarily stunned and wondering what was going on, until Sygil spoke up disinterestedly.

"Now that's dealt with, I would like to know your thoughts on the matter. Are you soldier of fortune, or a loyalist?" His hard gaze bored into her eyes, testing her. And she knew the answer she should give. She was a mercenary after all.

"I'm a mercenary. Are you looking for my services?" She asked cautiously, hoping that was the right answer. Sygil looked at her satisfactorily. "Excellent. We'll discuss payment and your new contract shortly. For now, though, I want you to spread the word to your fellow mercenaries about your new employer, and have all of the slaves gathered in front of the house in fifteen minutes."

"Of course," she bowed quickly, before practically running out the door, leaving them all alone again.

Sygil allowed his smile to form into a frown. "That was rather lacklustre. Here I was hoping perhaps your mercenaries would prove more interesting, rather than so… mundane."

However, he clapped his hands, switching to a more happy expression.

"Regardless, let's first have a look through your financial records. Need to know what I am paying out for mercenaries and the slaves anyway." And with that, he turned around and began to carefully rummage through some of the paperwork, ignoring the protesting form Beovhan and Clair, eventually finding a stack of documentation relating to financial records.

He quickly hoisted the large, heavy stack onto the table, before rolling the two deeds and placing them in his pant pocket, the top part of the paper protruding out. He didn't want to crease them quite yet, after all.

"Let's see what you have here. Expenses, more expenses. Lodging, rent, food and water, more and more expenses…" He spent the next several minutes quickly skimming through the documents while Maxmillian and the hounds kept the couple at bay, keeping any protesting in check. Finally, Sygil found the document he was looking for. Or rather, it was a small stack of documents bound together.

"Ah, a categorised summary of all expenses, investments and profits on a monthly basis! Let's see what you have." He had an almost child-like excitement in his voice as started reading through the first page.

"Total earnings so far at 3,323,440 Gold." He glanced back up at Beovhan. "That's what you have saved up currently on you? Not bad. Let's see." He started to look through more of the financial records, noting monthly costs and how finances were distributed and to what, alongside variations in profits and losses. What he was looking for, however, was the payments for the mercenaries, alongside an additional costs covered and provided for.

"Ah, here it is! 6 gold per month per mercenary. 23 mercenaries, therefore… 138 gold a month, which equals… 1,656 gold a year. Not bad. Considering two are now dead, that means they can expect a slight pay increase. A fair trade off for switching employers, wouldn't you agree?" The question was rhetorical, but Beovhan answered it anyways.

"Fuck you."

Sygil merely rolled his eyes as he continued.

"Now, what's this? 40,000 Gold to be set aside every six months for undisclosed payments? Interesting. I wonder who to? Mind telling me what that is for, seeing as it is disclosed in here from what I can see?"

However, before he could get any answers, something else caught his eye.

"50 Gold per slave sold. Quantity last month, three?" He quickly looked at Trisha. "I didn't know he sold your sisters?"

However, she was quick to respond.

"He's never sold my sisters. We've always been kept together ever since we were enslaved. He always sells the other ones."

"Other ones?"

Beovhan was quick to hiss in anger. "Quiet you damned bitch!"

The shadow-hound closest to him however snarled at him, moving closer and thus causing him to press back into his chair.

"Actually, I would like to know, seeing as all of your former assets are now mine."

"That's none-" "- He drugs unsuspecting travellers and sells them as slaves," interjected Trisha.

Beovhan's eyes wanted burst from their sockets, and Clair made to stand up, wanting to desperately beat Trisha to a bloody pulp, but Maxmillian roughly held her down in her seat.

"Really now?" responded Sygil with fascination that seemed to only build dread in the pits of both Beovhan and Clair's stomachs.

"So, the magical tampering of our meal was related I assume?" Sygil already knew the answer, however, with everything beginning to click and make sense.

"No!" disputed the captive woman. Sygil just sneered at her.

"Did you really think such a simple trick would work on me. I haven't gotten this far in life by simply trusting people generously to the point that I would accept a meal from an overeager stranger."

However. "You dared to poison the Supreme Being?!" Maxmillian was seething, and before anyone could react, he delivered a fierce smack across Clair's face. She let out a painful yelp and was quick to hold her face, blood dripping from her nose.

Sygil merely frowned.

"This… this is problematic," he breathed out, pursing his lips. "We'll deal with this matter later, however." He shot a pointed look at Beovhan, before slowly walking around the table, leaving the paperwork lying on the desk.

"Right now, I have an announcement to make, and you're both going to help me with that."

Maxmillian hoisted Clair up, and Beovhan reluctantly followed suit.

"Trisha. Can you do me a small favour and grab my jacket if it is dry please? Then meet me outside."

Sygil then opened the door and began to walk out, with Maxmillian and Clair in tow, and Beovhan reluctantly following.

As Trisha left to go grab Sygil's jacket, Clair glanced over her shoulder to Beovhan, who merely nodded in affirmation.

He wasn't going to surrender his property and assets quite that easily…

* * *

Outside, the group of four were greeted with the sight of 21 armed mercenaries standing watch over more than 40 huddled slaves on the street. The street lamps illuminated everyone, bathing them all in amber light.

As Sygil strode forth, he called out to everyone rather loudly.

"Greetings everyone! My name's Sygil. For those of you wondering, I am now your new employer, as can be proven by this very deed which Mr Augustus both so generously wrote and signed." He held open for all to see the very parchment he had transcribed for him.

"As such, all financial and property assets, as well as conscripted labour, enslaved and hired alike, is now under my control." He observed a mix interested and disgruntled looks amongst the mercenaries, with the same woman mercenary standing in front of a group of mercenaries.

"Now, to first address the mercenaries. Your contractual obligations have been rearranged to the new owner of this property, which is me. That means, Mr Beovhan is unable to pay for your services any longer. Instead, your payment has been defaulted to be my responsibility. While we will discuss the new terms of service now that you are under my employ, I will say, there are several changes which you can anticipate."

A mercenary cut him off, however. "Yeah, for starters, I ain't working for some pish-posh snobby cunt that barely looks 30." Sygil redirected his attention to the mercenary that spoke as he stepped forth.

Like his fellow mercenaries, he was dressed head to toe in armour which concealed his identity, and he wielded a rather large battleaxe strapped to his back.

"I was hired by Mr Augustus, not you, so you can shove your proposition up your fucking ass!"

Sygil chuckled. "That is fine. If you wish to leave, I'd much prefer so than deal with the headache of a loyalist. Though be warned, if you try to stop me, it won't end well…."

Sygil tore his gaze from the mercenary and glazed over everyone else. "Regardless, for those who wish to earn substantial money, I am looking to contract your services. And that includes the now former slaves."

That seemed to garner some murmurs, though Sygil continued.

"For those of you enslaved, I am offering you your freedom, safety and protection, in exchange for loyalty which will be rewarded. You will be paid for your services" – "This is preposterous!"

Another mercenary interrupted him this time. "Why should we listen to you? Who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Yeah, for starters, these animals should be lucky to be kept alive, and now you want to free them?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Another mercenary began to speak up. "Who the fuck put you in charge."

"I am in charge because I am hiring your services, and only I can currently pay you since I am the legal owner of all of Beovhan's property and assets, including his financial. So unless you'd fancy losing your paycheck, I suggest you listen." Sygil narrowed his eyes, his voice hardening.

"And the slaves are to be freed, because that is what I said so." All of the slaves were looking at him with curiosity. He noted that they were all female, adorning the same animal features as from Gallheia's tribe.

He could hear footsteps from behind, and turning his head, he was greeted with Trisha arriving with his jacket.

"Ah, thank you," he relieved her of his jacket, placing it on and buttoning it up. It was mostly dry, though a couple parts were mildly damp, but he paid it no heed.

"Now, for those true mercenaries amongst you who are willing to take on a new contract with higher pay, I suggest you strongly consider whether or not you'd serve someone with no money anymore, or someone who can offer you better opportunity and put your services to real use. What will it be?"

Some of the mercenaries began to murmur and talk amongst themselves. They had just recently been informed that Sygil had legally taken control of Beovhan's assets and was now technically in control of the finances. However, there was some discontent. He was no more than a bandit to some, who had just taken everything though thievery and brute force. Besides, their contract was technically to Beovhan, not him.

"Now Clair," began Sygil redirecting his attention to the pregnant woman. "I made a promise to Trisha, and by extent to her enslaved sisters."

That caught the attention of many of the slaves and some of the mercenaries.

"I want you to undo he magical seals on the slaves, starting with Trisha."

At first, Clair didn't respond, but then, she slowly started to chuckle. "He… he…. Hehe… hehehe!"

Sygil couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at her antics as she began to madly laugh.

"And why should I listen to you?!"

At that, both Sygil and Maxmillian's eyes narrowed.

"These slaves are mine and my husband's property. Not yours. And the same goes for the mercenaries. We hired them, not you!"

Beovhan was the next to step up and speak confidently.

"Exactly! You might think just because you have a piece of paper you own everything, but the truth of the matter is, the real world isn't so fair. I paid for these mercenaries, so they are loyal to me!" There was a fresh fire in his eyes, and several of the mercenaries seemed to become rather motivated at that, beginning to brandish some of their weapons.

Clair wheeled on Sygil and spat in his face. "Precisely!" Sygil instinctively waved a placating hand to prevent Maxmillian from going ballistic.

"I put those seals on those miserable savages to keep them in check for a reason. They are designed to be nearly impossible to remove! Besides," she placed a hand on her hip arrogantly. "Even if they could be removed, I don't want to. You can't force _me_ to do anything. Any of us." By now, she was sporting a smirk of her own.

Several of the mercenaries stepped forth with their weapons, about five counted Sygil.

Trisha cautiously stepped back a little, while Beovhan moved slightly behind Sygil, who raised a finger as if to lecture.

"First, let's make something clear. They are mercenaries, not your own personal royal guard. Their true loyalties are, and always will lie, to money. Which is something only _I_ now possess."

Clair raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Secondly, that piece of paper proves to the whole world that I now own this property and all of its assets. Whether you like it or not. And thirdly, if you can build something, then you can most certainly destroy it."

His eyes bore straight into her very own. "You put the seals on them, you can remove them. And whether you like it or not, you will remove them."

Beovhan's chuckling suddenly rang through the air as the same five mercenaries started to walk closer weapons brandished.

"That's a good one! However, I think we've all had enough of this charade. If you surrender, then perhaps your fate might be more lenient." There was no mistaking the confidence behind Beovhan's words.

Sygil paid them no heed, however, focusing his attention on the five mercenaries that beginning to form a semi-circle around him and Maxmillian.

"So, are you five loyalists then? More loyal to Beovhan than to coin?"

Most of the mercenaries where standing back, either out of curiosity, a change of heart, or the belief that this fiasco was about to come to a close.

"Oh we're loyal to coin. It's just we prefer people we know that can pay us, and I doubt you can kid," came the muffled voice of an older mercenary wielding a double-handed longsword.

"I see then, so you've made your choice then. That's unfortunate." Sygil's voice almost sounded sad as looked slightly downcast. And then he looked back up coldly, with a voice of steel to match.

"Kill them."

Before anyone could contemplate what was said, the shadows around the five suddenly came to life.

Several predatory roars could be heard as three smoky silhouettes charged from the shadows, rapidly taking on the form of shadow-hounds.

Before the mercenaries could react, the hounds were upon them, and the onslaught began. Or rather, the one-sided slaughter.

One mercenary flew backwards in an explosion of blood, as if a truck had rammed him full speed, spraying his blood far out into the street.

Another mercenary was savagely ripped in half, spilling blood and entrails everywhere with a scream, his armour doing nothing to protect him.

The other mercenaries fared no better, unable to attack or defend themselves, instead victims of a mindless massacre that was rigged from the start.

Everyone watched with a mixture of shock and horror. No-one could have predicted this, yet it was happening before their very eyes.

The mercenaries to the side were somewhat grateful that they weren't caught in the onslaught, as the shadow-hounds seemed only interested in those five mercenaries. The slaves only stared in dull surprise, though some were secretly glad to see the mercenaries brutally killed.

The screams quickly died down, with the hounds now busy just ripping apart the remains of the five bodies, turning the street into a stained crimson colour.

"Now that the loyalists are gone, let's –" Sygil didn't get to finish his speech when suddenly Beovhan produced a dagger from within his clothes, swinging overhead for a fatal backstab. As he did that, Clair suddenly ducked down and twisted to face Maxmillian, and with one word, cast her spell.

"[Fireball]".

Maxmillian's reactions were just as fast however, and before Beovhan could bring his stab down, he swung his sabre upwards fast and hard, slicing off Beovhan's knife-hand, sending a small spray of blood shooting up into the air like a small, temporary geyser. However, he was left vulnerable to the Fireball that suddenly engulfed him, covering him completely in flames.

By that point, some of the remaining mercenaries started to hesitantly reach for their weapons, unsure of whether to intervene at this stage or not. Sygil, however, was on Clair like a hawk.

With a single swift motion, he swept her legs from under, and as she fell, he shot his hand around her throat and roughly hoisted her into the air.

The flames on and around Maxmillian died down, and to everyone's surprise, he was unharmed. Even his clothes were unsinged.

He delivered a swift kick to Beovhan, sending him toppling over as he clutched his bloody stump, wailing in pain.

"Such a nuisance," gritted Sygil absentmindedly to himself, before roughly throwing Clair to the ground.

As she hit the ground, she noticed Maxmillian was unhurt and now standing over her, his sabre levelled at her throat.

"How… how are you still alive?!" She croaked, her throat sore from Sygil's vice-like grip.

"Did you really think such a weak spell would have any effect on me or my Creator? You foolish savage." There was no mistaking the contempt behind Maxmillian's words.

Sygil growled at Clair. "I warned you not to try anything, and yet you didn't want to listen."

By now, Clair was afraid. And none of the mercenaries were keen to intervene with the shadow-hound spacing hungrily between them and Clair.

"I gave you chance. Both of you. Yet, you didn't want to conform. Admirable, but foolish." He glanced at Trisha, who seemed somewhat jumpy when he called her name.

"Trisha. Come here please." She tentatively stepped forth.

He returned his focus back to Clair. "I want you to remove the seal on the slaves, starting with Trisha."

He turned around and began to walk where a whimpering Beovhan was.

"But, I can't! Even if I wanted to, the seals are designed to be nearly impossible to remove. It would take too long," she protested weakly.

Sygil roughly hauled Beovhan up, who struggled to break away from his iron grip.

"Then allow me to give you some motivation." With those words, he summoned his sabre, and before anyone could react, he thrust it deep into Beovhan's stomach, who let out a gurgle in pain. Clair couldn't help herself, she screamed in horror.

"BEOVHAN!"

Sygil let him drop down and curl into a ball, weakly clutching both his bloody stump of a hand and perforated stomach that was oozing blood.

"Like you said Beovhan. Life sometimes isn't fair." There was no remorse in his voice as he flicked the blood off of his sabre.

Clair tried to stand to rush to her husband, but a gesture from Sygil and Maxmillian roughly held her back.

Sygil slowly strode to her, dematerialising his sabre.

"I know you can use healing magic to treat him. And he'll need it, because your husband is going to die soon. Stomach injuries are some of the worst and most painful," he began analytically, ignoring Clair's distress.

"With each passing moment, more of his gastric acid is leaking into his body, burning it and causing unimaginable pain."

"Please," she pleased, her face becoming a ruined mixture of tears, snot and blood from earlier. "Please, let me help him!"

Syigl crouched down to her. "Well, you can,” he goaded. “ _After_ you release the seal from Trisha. After she is completely freed. Then, you may go heal your husband."

She stared at him with tears in her eyes, wretched sobbing coming through. "But I can't. It's too hard to! Please! Just let me…." She choked on her own words, and Sygil stood up, staring at her devoid of emotion.

"Then consider this good motivation to succeed. And you better hurry too. He might not last long enough if you dawdle along."

Clair's sobbing could be heard, alongside Beovhan's moaning. The commotion had resulted in a few townspeople coming out to investigate, only to be shocked or disturbed at the carnage littering the street.

Some of the mercenaries had begun to quietly chatter amongst themselves, and were unsure of what to do when Sygil stepped up to where the slaves where, looking at the mercenaries slowly, before his eyes settled on the woman mercenary from early.

Slowly rubbing his hands, he decided to break the relative silence.

"So. About that proposition earlier. Who's looking for some work?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first I'll summarise this chapter's edits, and then go into the announcements.  
> For starters, it was, again, mostly dialogue edits, but ore major ones, specifically concerning Sygil's professional and ethical lectures. It felt too forced, like I was forcing my own values, rather than Sygil expressing his own, you know what I mean? That's fixed now, typos fixed, prose amended, dialogue better updated. All G now! Only one more chapter to go, the the rewrite is officially done!  
> Now, announcements! Still can;t find my damn password book, so I have gone ahead and posted on a new FFN account. Search for (The Domino Effect - Rewrite by Darksinner666 - alt) on FFN.net, or use this link (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13775023/1/The-Domino-Effect-Rewrite).  
> Next and final rewritten chapter will be uploaded tomorrow, and then we are done baby! WHOO /;-;/


	11. Foundations (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to overlord and its respective content.

**Chapter 12: Foundations (Part 1)**

The sounds of agonised moaning and groaning were all that could be heard as everyone stared at the scene before them in complete shock.

The mercenaries were broken out of their stupor by Sygil as he called out to them.

"So, before we get started, do any of you have further objections?" He was watching them intently, and after glancing at the shadows hounds that were growling in their direction, the mercenaries seemed to realise their situation.

The woman mercenary from before slowly stepped forth, acting as a representative on behalf of all the other mercenaries.

"After… after careful consideration, I think we can agree that a new contract can be established to work with you." She chose her words carefully, wary of Sygil who had brute-forced his way into a position of authority.

Sygil scrutinised her intently for several intense seconds, before cracking a wry smile.

"That sounds excellent. Might I get your name please?"

She didn't let his apparent politeness deceive her into thinking it was safe. Regardless, she answered cautiously.

"Alizia. Alizia Grenevaulch."

Sygil locked his eyes with hers. "Well, miss Grenevaulch, I would like to formally congratulate you in becoming the new Head of the Mercenary Peacekeeping Taskforce now established in protecting my vested interests of the town of Merigold."

She widened her eyes slightly, and some of the other mercenaries seemed slightly confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"To put in lamen's terms, you are now in charge of the mercenaries here. They will now all respond directly to you, and you will in turn respond directly to me." Sygil's confident smile only grew.

"Unless, of course, you feel you are not up to it? In which case I can arrange for a suitable replacement, but I'd rather not waste time right now."

Alizia did not like the undertone with which Sygil spoke, so she decided it was probably for the best to comply. For now.

"Of course, Sir Amadeus."

"Good. Now, I trust you can manage everyone for a couple hours while I go sort out some paperwork and other financial details. I will call you in to discuss a new proper contract and payment once I have finished organising everything. Is this acceptable?"

It wasn't a question so much as it was Sygil's decision veiled as a formality, and nearly everyone present could deduce as much. As expected, no one was willing to contest his decision.

"Excellent. While I get things organised in the meantime, I expect you and the mercenaries to continue your regular duties and make sure Clair here," he gestured to the despairing woman, "undoes the seal on Trisha first before she is allowed to heal her husband. Afterwards, you are to supervise her releasing the seals on all of the remaining slaves. Do I make myself clear?"

Alizia resisted the urge to swallow. "Crystal."

"Good. Then I will leave you to it. Oh, and I recommend you send two of your mercenaries to clean up the mess Cain left behind on the second floor. He kinda lost his head during our talk…"

There was something more ominous about the way that was phrased, but she tried her best to ignore it.

Without a further glance, Sygil casually walked back inside the mansion with Maxmillian on his heels, leaving a host of uncertain mercenaries and slaves behind.

As Sygil began to step inside, several more shadow hounds formed from the darkness outside and began to predatorily stalk and patrol around the slaves and mercenaries, leaving everyone uneasy.

* * *

Sygil entered back into Beovhan's – no, _his_ , office. The stacks of paperwork from earlier sat undisturbed.

Sygil blew a breath upwards, slightly disturbing his hair. "Well, no time like the present. Let's get this sorted out quickly Maxmillian."

"Yes sir."

Sygil approached the seat behind the desk, sitting down abruptly.

"Go through the other stacks of paper and try to find out anything relating to Beovhan's business. I want to know every little detail of his financial records, and what operations he was conducting here."

Maxmillian snapped to attention. "Right away sir!"

* * *

The next several hours were spent meticulously combing through all of Beovhan's documents, and with the two of them working together, they were able to move at a considerable pace.

Most of the documents were self-explanatory and covered the basic financial, property and labour filings on a weekly basis, much of which had been skimmed through earlier with the properties predecessors. However, there were a sparse few documents further detailing other business ventures conducted by Beovhan, _not_ related to farming.

Sygil held a gloved thumb under his chin as he commented idly. "Hmmm, interesting."

Maxmillian glanced over at his Creator. "Pardon, sir?"

Sygil leaned back in his chair as he stroked his chin.

"Some of the financial workings here do not add up."

"Perhaps we are missing a couple more documents, then sir?"

"No. All financial summaries are usually kept together. This isn't poor bookkeeping so much as it is a deliberate attempt to hide something. Albeit, a rather poor job seeing as the paperwork is all together here, the fool.

"It would seem Mr. Beovhan has been running a couple additional business ventures, and hasn't catalogued it in his main financial records, so as to avoid tax, apparently."

"Pardon me, sir, but how does this pertain to us. We can just continue to avoid declaring the additional money accumulated and use it accordingly without anyone being the wiser."

Sygil snorted in amusement. "A one-time occurrence, perhaps, but this is a steady profit he is making, and there appears to be no further information pertaining to costs associated with this. Someone is buying something from Beovhan, and he isn't declaring it. He likely has a contract, or mutual business exchange. And considering how he has attempted to keep it under wraps by avoiding declaring it, it is likely something he wants others to avoid officially knowing about."

Maxmillian was quick to clue in and suggest something. "Perhaps it is the slave trade that was mentioned earlier?"

"The one Beovhan attempted to drug and sell us in? Most likely."

Maxmillian felt a snarl form on his face as he spat with disdain. "Then why don't we extract some information from Beovhan and then deal with both bastards responsible for daring to conceive trafficking you, sir!"

"Patience, Maxmillian. Revenge is not a necessity for us, even granted the circumstances." Sygil was obviously in a cheerful mood, a dark smile forming on his face as he stared off into space.

"Besides, there is a potential silver lining to all of this. By attempting to ransom us, Beovhan has unwittingly provided us with exactly what we need… connections."

"I fail to see the necessity sir…"

"Beovhan hasn't declared any slave trafficking on his main financial records, therefore, he is likely selling to a third party. Most likely, a _criminal_ third party. And criminals have connections in the underworld that will allow us to remain above-board with the ruling governments."

Maxmillian still didn't entirely understand the significance that some petty slavers could offer to his glorious creator. Sygil, upon seeing his confusion, further elaborated.

"The actual buyers, the slavers, are of little consequence to us, but they are likely to be connected with other third parties and organisations. _Those_ third parties are of real interest to me, as they will likely be in positions of actual political influence."

Maxmillian felt himself stare at Sygil in slow understanding.

Sygil smiled sagely at Maxmillian once he finally grasped what he was implying.

"Of course, I'm not so foolish as to think that is guaranteed. After all, they could be just small-time slavers or random purchasers that Beovhan has been selling to. In which case, we would need to take a different approach." Maxmillian nodded his head slowly.

Sygil, however, felt a frown begin to form on his face after a couple seconds of contemplation.

"There is a slight problem, however. The mercenaries."

"You are doubtful of their loyalty when they have a greater interest in coin."

Maxmillian wasn't dumb, that's for sure. It made Sygil somewhat relieved that he had someone reliable to depend on then.

"Yes. Precisely that. While we are in the middle of acquiescing loyal workers to help begin establishing the foundations of an empire, we need a loyal army, not a drabble of mercenaries that can go turncoat on us simply when a bigger fish arrives. And that brings up a rather annoying aspect; we have no real standing army to help consolidate nor defend our assets, only temporary sellswords."

"They are only temporarily reliable at best, so you want to establish a more skilful and loyal army," summarised Maxmillian succinctly, ever so direct.

"Exactly. However, we first need to have the means to fund and create our army, as well as equip it. And that is something we will have a more challenging time to do." Sygil had a forlorn look in his eyes as he spoke.

"So why not use your Ring of Creation to create some NPCs to do so for you; allowing us to carry out your will while you just plan ahead."

Sygil stared at Maxmillian tensely for several seconds, and for a moment Maxmillian began to wonder if he had overstepped his boundaries as a loyal NPC by daring to suggest something of such magnitude and obviousness to his creator.

However, no retribution came, and after several seconds, Sygil cracked a grin, chuckling.

"Of course, Maxmillian. You're right! All I need is to create some NPCs using the ring, and I can equip them with the necessary stats and levels to bypass any racial and build limitations and restrictions imposed on me. I'd have a more diverse and effective workforce, and could leave some of the more menial labour tasks to the slaves and residents here. You're a genius Maxmillian!"

"You give me far too much credit for your brilliance. Surely you were already thinking of doing this anyways, sir."

Sygil was about to dismiss Maxmillian's deflection of credit, but other thoughts interrupted him.

_Wait, don't I already have another NPC created? Hans…. Wait, is that how I summoned Maxmillian, through the ring? If so, then I should be able to summon Hans. More loyal people under me means I'll have a much better and effective time in creating my empire._

Sygil felt around in his pocket, finally feeling the ring, though he was unable to fully recognise its texture due to his glove, but that was beside the point. The ring was still there.

Pulling it out, he slowly examined it, before putting it on his left index finger, over the glove, making for a tight fit.

_So how does this work now, do I wave it to create a menu like in Yggdrasil, or do I just imagine something like Hans appearing?_

He gave a slight flourish of his left hand, hoping to activate the ring whilst imagining Hans.

_Perhaps it doesn't work that way?_

He barely had time to process any other viable alternatives, when a foreign voice rang out in the room suddenly.

"Hans Gruber, reporting for duty sir!"

Sygil's head shot up in the direction of the voice.

Standing before him in front of his desk was Hans, adorned in an identical uniform to Maxmillian, though his facial features were younger and much less harsh.

Hans' voice sounded rather young, maybe early to mid-twenties, and he had an alluring German accent that portrayed friendliness.

Maxmillian didn't flinch at his comrades sudden apparition, nor did he make any move to draw his weapon, instead shooting a brief cursory glance over to his fellow NPC before returning his attention back to Sygil.

Sygil stared at Hans curiously, trying to suppress his surprise at how easily he was summoned.

 _Well that was much easier than I anticipated_.

Still, he needed to move on, and there was no time quite like the present, so without further ado, he proceeded.

"Hans." The aforementioned NPC stood more erect and at attention than before somehow, but he paid no heed to it.

"Can you provide me a list of all of your Creative Functions and Summons?"

"Yes sir! My current stats and levelling allow me to oversee improved production and manufacture of weaponry up to the modern era, as well as assume complete control of any units placed under my command, including summoning them to fulfil any assigned tasks. Unfortunately, I am currently incapable of creating my own summons, and rely on you to place units under my complete command. Sir!"

Sygil frowned, placing a thumb under his chin, before turning to Maxmillian. "And what about you? Do you have any Creative Functions or Summons?"

"I possess many of the Creative Functions as Hans, sir, but due to my Commander and Overseer attributes, I can do so much more effectively and on a larger scale with less drawbacks and penalties. I am capable of summoning any allied units that you create sir, and can summon my own summons sir, but they currently do not exist yet as they have not been created. A significant resource contribution would be required to create any compatible summons for myself to summon sir, and since none of this has been currently achieved, I am therefore unable to do so currently, sir!"

Both of the uniformed NPCs stood at attention, watching their Creator's actions intently as he sat in deep contemplation.

_So they're capable of creating and controlling to an extent, but that requires a resource investment. In other words, we currently have no reliable, nor loyal, standing army or workforce. Only contracted mercenaries and hopefully indebted slaves._

There were also the townspeople, but due to their lacklustre population and atypical human nature, he doubted their overall reliability for the long term.

_Then again, I only need outside help for the short term._

That still left the dilemma of how he intended to acquire his own personal army and workforce.

Glancing at the two NPCs, he pondered on the possibilities.

 _They can't create an army directly, not without sufficient resources, but maybe there might be a way to bypass that._ After all, he lived a life of exploiting loopholes to his advantage. And everything could be manipulated and exploited. It was only natural that there was a way he could find to do so.

He directed a hardened gaze at both of his subordinates.

"I need an army. One that is loyal solely to me, and highly effective. The mercenaries will only remain loyal for so long, and I am doubtful of their skills and abilities in the long-term. Inevitably, sooner rather than later, we will need to amass an army that is loyal strictly to me. However, that will be difficult and take a long time, unfortunately."

A bitter frown found itself slowly forming on his face with each word, and when he was done, Hans shot him a quizzical glance.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why not just create your own army from the ground up, much like you created us, sir?"

Sygil briefly entertained the thought, but was quick to dismiss it.

"While your suggestion has merit, I require a significant amount of resources and time to craft even one individual, and the Ring is insufficient on its own."

Hans gaze lowered as he frowned at the information.

"Not to mention the mana and XP points that are required…." Sygil trailed off as he mentioned XP and mana.

_This world isn't Yggdrasil or a game anymore, so maybe I don't need those points at all?_

He filed away the thoughts for later testing and reference in his mind, when suddenly Maxmillian spoke up.

"Perhaps you can't create an army individually, but why not instead create another NPC that could manufacture an army of summons instead?"

Now, Sygil was intrigued at _that_ idea. Even Hans' expression looked thoughtful at that suggestion.

A small smile began to form on Sygil's face as he stroked his chin with his forefinger.

"Perhaps…. I suppose it would solve the XP requirement for a full-scale army. However, summons require mana to be used, if I'm correct. Additionally, only the summoner can store and unleash them, which means so long as the original summoner is incapacitated, an army would effectively be rendered null and void."

_From one dilemma to another…._

An army of summons could be compromised, but maybe he didn't need summons. The idea of an NPC effectively manufacturing soldiers for him would save him time and potentially mana and XP. However, he would still need resources. And he didn't want to be so cheap as to equip his future army with only primitive wooden spears and rocks. No, he wanted to progress his army straight to the modern age of Earth at the minimum, in terms of technology.

"Hmm. Perhaps… if I created an NPC with manufacturing capabilities to produce individual soldiers instead…." He looked up to properly address his two NPCs with this train of thought in mind.

"Are there any specific racial classes or types of NPCs that would be able to effectively create soldiers and help progress us technologically?"

He was beginning to think broader now. He didn't just want an army, he wanted to ensure he would be top-dog of this world. And the certainty and robust nature of technology could provide that, much more reliably so than magic he wasn't entirely familiar or proficient with.

Both Maxmillian and Hans began to ponder a range of options.

"Perhaps dwarves? They usually have superior creativity elements compared to most other races?" Hans barely finished when Maxmillian interjected angrily, his face scrunched up.

"You would dare suggest that a filthy demi-human race would produce greater ingenuity than a pure human?!"

Sygil was quick to interject.

"I care little for race or creed so long as it benefits me. However, I need something that can expand currently existing infrastructure and provide technological advancements and help manufacture an army. Something that is resilient, efficacious and able to work quickly." He looked Hans directly in the eyes.

"Would dwarves indeed meet these requirements?"

Hans seemed to hesitate, albeit briefly. "They… are an option. There could be more suitable choices, however, sir."

Sygil merely leaned back into his seat, still holding his chin.

Silence permeated the room as everyone began to ponder over the current situation.

Finally, after some deliberation, Maxmillian spoke up.

"What about an automaton, sir?"

Sygil waved his hand, gesturing him to continue.

"An automaton would be technologically equipped to provide both accurate and precise analytical data, as well as be capable of developing technology to meet your standards, sir. Not to mention, due to its robust racial characteristics, it would be capable of easily defending your assets provided it was sufficiently levelled up."

By now, Sygil's interest was piqued, and he began to fill in the gaps.

"An automaton would be able to independently utilise natural and magical resources to create an army and advance our current base of operations much further. Not to mention the reliability due to computer generated data, providing a great deal of efficiency in any projects."

As he laid his hands on the table, he could feel a satisfied smile form on his face. "I like it."

However, a cold realisation came across his mind.

"Unfortunately, to create one, I need to have the appropriate racial classes and requirements, as well as starting materials and resources."

"This settlement should have sufficient starting resources to scrounge up for an automaton, and from there, improvements can be added as we acquire more resources, sir," added Maxmillian.

_This could work out even better than I originally anticipated._

Sygil nodded his head slowly in concurrence; the idea did truly appeal to him. If it would work, that is.

Only one way to find out, though.

"I'll have to try it, then. If it does indeed work, the boon to my empire would be phenomenal in helping to jumpstart it. It would save us much time. Still," he trailed off ruefully. "It is something that will have to be done at a later time. And that is if it even works at all."

The two NPCs nodded in affirmation and understanding. "Of course, sir."

"Still… that doesn't solve our other current situation. The one concerning our base of operations and the town of Merigold," he clarified upon seeing the looks his two subordinates were giving him.

"First thing on the agenda is to secure our local mercenaries loyalty. A pay-rise above their standard should help to alleviate any concerns they might have. We can use the income coming from the deceased mercenaries as compensation so we don't really pay any more, instead they just get their deceased compatriot's share." It was important he secured their loyalty, even if temporarily. This would be the quickest and easiest way. Besides, he planned to recoup any funds lost, so it wasn't exactly a bad investment.

"If that is what you wish, sir, it shall be done."

"It is. Now, there were originally 23, at 6 gold per month. Cain is dead, and so is the burly asshole from earlier," the body was still lying on the floor with blood pooled around it. _Should get that cleaned up._ "And… five guys from outside. So all up that's seven mercenaries dead. At six gold per month…" he ran some mental calculations in his head, before coming up with a satisfactory number that didn't exceed what Beovhan was previously paying, but was still a significant pay increase to keep them satisfied. "Say, an increase in pay to about 8 gold a month? Seems fair, and will keep them content for now."

He was mostly talking to himself at this point, but also wasn't hearing any objections from Maxmillian or Hans.

"Next order of business is the distribution of labour and duties amongst the townsfolk and the slaves."

Maxmillian was quick to have some input.

"Might I suggest reassigning the townsfolk to more relevant labour duties, sir?"

"Already ahead of you, Maxmillian." Sygil already plans in motion in his head to begin expanding solidifying his control and influence.

"Most of the townsfolk laze about doing mere retail for travellers, with a couple skilled tradesmen amongst them. That needs to change. Once we finalise the details and a new contract with the mercenaries, I'll get you to begin reassigning the townsfolk to mining and industrial production. Once the slaves are freed, I'll assign them accordingly to continue working on the crops or maybe use their enhanced strength for mining. Remember, we still need to turn a profit and keep our new business fully operational."

This time, Hans spoke up. "And what about those that refuse, or worse, become dissidents to your rule?"

Sygil didn't even hesitate. "Then they're a liability. Re-educate them on their new duties, and if they still fail to comply, kill them. However, leave the slaves be, as they can provide a greater range of uses, so flexibility and discretion are needed there. I will deal with them personally. Just make sure the residents understand their new duties."

He didn't fail to observe the sadistic grin that came across Maxmillian's face. "Of course sir, you can leave it to me."

Hans shot a curious cursory glance at Maxmillian, but otherwise ignored him.

"Now would also be a good time to start collecting all of the minerals, metals, ores and other valuable resources in this town. If I am to create an automaton, I will need starting materials at my disposal. Hans, see to it that all such materials are relinquished over to us in the mansion."

Hans bowed his head slightly. "Of course, sir."

"Good. By now, Clair should have finished releasing the seals on Trisha and some of the slaves."

"But what about Beovhan?" Interjected Maxmillian.

"If he hasn't bled out by now, then I can use him for information. After-which, we can deliberate his fate."

"And if he doesn't want to comply?"

Sygil chuckled lightly. "Maxmillian, have some more faith. With his wife and unborn child hostage, he wouldn't want to dare refuse me."

Maxmillian slowly nodded his head in understanding.

"Now all that leaves is just Trisha."

"What about the demi-human, sir?"

"She was a warrior, as were her sisters, I presume. We have a temporary shortage of defenders in our mercenaries. Those that aren't put to work on the fields or mines, will be placed in my new army."

Maxmillian couldn't help but let a frown form. "Forgive me for overstepping sir, but are you sure that is wise? She could easily betray you, and her skills are debatable."

Sygil took no offence. "Oh, I am relatively certain of where her loyalty lies. It is to her sisters and their safety, and since I can provide that, it is by extension given to me also."

"That isn't true loyalty, sir. And even if she were, what skillset can she offer that Hans or I cannot?"

Sygil merely waved a hand passively. "In terms of her skillset as a warrior? I personally do not have the highest expectations. Since she is from Gallheia's tribe, she has sufficient skills to, at the very least, make bandits and other sources of problems more… manageable. It's less about her skill, and more so she is a body that can fit into the fledglings of my army."

He took a calm breath confidently. "Besides, if it came down to it and she did indeed try to betray me, then I'd kill her. The same applies to the others. However, that is why I have seen to it to be a generous leader for them to follow. Loyalty out of gratitude minimises the very risk you are concerned about, which is what I have done. We just need to give it time for them all to come around." He flashed Maxmillian a brief, clipped smile.

Maxmillian nodded slowly, placing faith in his Creator to know what was best.

Sygil closed his eyes with a forlorn smile.

"Anyways, if all goes according to plan, then they will be a temporary army until we create a true loyalist army."

Maxmillian pursed his lips in concurrence. "Then all that leaves is informing the mercenaries of their new roles, as well as the residents and demi-humans."

"Precisely," nodded Sygil. "Actually, if you could fetch Alizia for me, and we can organise a proper contract and her new duties. Then we can get a proper move on."

Maxmillian snapped to attention. "Of course sir, right away!" With that, Maxmillian left the room, stepping over the corpse of the unfortunate mercenary from earlier.

Sygil reached over to grab a piece of paper from a nearby pile, before laying it on the table before him. Hans, out curiosity, glanced at it.

Sygil seemed to notice and answered. "It's the mercenaries old contract with Beovhan. If you could grab me a clean sheet, and I can create a new one with them, seeing as the old one is somewhat obsolete now."

Hans nodded his head in compliance, before reaching over to the shelf behind to grab a clean parchment. "Of course sir."

With that, Sygil began to reread the original contract, making mental notes of what to include, omit and amend.

* * *

It didn't take long before there was a brief knock on the door, upon which Maxmillian, towing Alizia, entered the room.

Closing the door behind them, Maxmillian stood diligently at attention, blocking the door. Meanwhile, Alizia was left standing in front of the desk where Sygil and Hans sat.

Sygil looked up, flashing a smile. "Ah, miss Grenevaulch. A pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," nodded the woman stiffly. Everyone could tell she was uneasy, especially if the hand resting near the pommel of her sheathed sword was any indication.

"No need to concerned. I just want to discuss the terms and conditions of a new contract with you. Please, take a seat." He gestured to the empty seat before him.

She eyed the seat cautiously, before sending the same wary look to him, as if she half-expected the seat or him to lash out and bite her in half.

Wordlessly, she pulled the chair out and slid into it.

"You summoned me." There was no mistaking the trepidation in her voice, but he couldn't entirely fault her. After all he had all but a few hours ago brazenly claimed ownership over everything, and proceeded to summon monsters from the shadows to mercilessly slaughter those that opposed him. The slaughtered being her comrades most likely, assuming she had formed a familial bond with the mercenaries, which was likely.

Sygil steepled his fingers, an air of confidence and control exerted as he leaned slightly forward.

"Indeed I did. After all, considering the recent change in employment you have experienced, alongside your sudden promotion, it only makes sense that I be fair and offer you a new contract."

Alizia eyed him, sending a cursory glance to the newcomer she hadn't previously seen before; Hans.

"Of course, I appreciate the generous sentiment."

"Excellent," Sygil leaned back in satisfaction.

"Not much has changed when compared to your previous contract," he slid the new written contract before her to read for herself. Regardless, he summarised briefly.

"Aside from some additional duties that you will perform, you will be pleased to note that you and your fellow mercenaries will receive a small pay increase to 8 gold per month."

Alizia steeled her expression to remain neutral as she turned the contract around to read it for herself.

"You and your mercenaries will answer directly to myself and my two subordinates, Hans," he gestured to the uniformed man seated on his left, "and Maxmillian."

Alizia nodded as her eyes skimmed over the contract quickly, attempting to discern any dangerous loopholes for her.

"Of course," continued Sygil, "Your new duties are a little more extensive and beyond simple policing now. I expect you and your comrades to have an extra vigilant watch over my property and the residents. I cannot afford lax behaviour from anyone, and any and all threats must be dealt with swiftly and harshly." Alizia detected the warning underneath those words applied for both her and the mercenaries as well.

"You will also be expected to assist with any other matters myself or my subordinates deem necessary."

She placed the contract down after reading it.

"Of course, though," by now Sygil's tone became more serious. "If you feel you or your mercenaries are not up to the task, then that means I would have to find a replacement."

She did not like the implications of those words, and the cold, neutral expressions directed by everyone in the room made her feel like a little sheep in a room with wolves.

She did not like this one bit, but at least she could admit the pay was somewhat nicer. Plus the contract didn't seem to ask of anything too concerning.

After careful consideration, she cautiously answered Sygil. "After considering what you have offered in your contract, I am willing to accept the conditions of your employment, as would the rest of my comrades." God, she hoped this wasn't a mistake, but she was loath to admit she was in no real position to refuse. And considering the fate of the other mercenaries that refused, she didn't think it was wise to either. She was trapped now.

Sygil straightened up, flashing a satisfied smile. "Excellent. Hans and Maxmillian here have some duties they need to take care of, and will require the assistance of you and your mercenaries. They will inform you of what is required. You can also expect to work alongside the newly released slaves in the near future, so I suggest any problems that both parties might have be buried effective immediately. We are all one cohesive unit now, and I want to it to stay that way. Am I clear?"

She nodded respectfully. "Absolutely. I hate to ask so soon, but when can we expect to receive our first payment."

If her new employer was offended, he didn't show it, even if Hans and Maxmillian bristled at the question.

"Provided you do an effective job, by the end of the week. If there are any other questions…?"

She shook her head.

"Good. All you have to do is sign the contract."

Slowly, she reached for the quill on the desk, and proceeded to add her signature to the document. It felt as if the world was coming to a stop as she signed her name. For better or for worse, her life, and her comrades, was going to change. She knew that much.

"Congratulations! Welcome aboard. Now, Maxmillian will be leading the reorganisation of the resident's new duties. You and your mercenaries will assist him where necessary. Meanwhile, Hans is going to take a group to start collecting all metals and ores in the town and ensure all of your fellow mercenaries sign the contract. You can help them sign."

If Alizia was sceptical, she did a good job masking it. "Of course," she replied neutrally.

"Good." He glanced at Maxmillian and Hans. "You know your duties. I expect them done by dusk."

"Yes sir," they both saluted in unison. "Excellent. I am going to manage Beovhan and Clair now. We'll meet later."

With that, Sygil Stood up and circled around the desk to the door, which Maxmillian opened for him to enter.

Nodding his thanks, Sygil stepped out, before stopping and glancing back at Alizia.

"Oh, and have someone come clean up the body in here." And with that he left. Alizia glanced at the body on ground which served as a stark reminder.

Maxmillian glanced at Hans briefly, who respectfully nodded. The main plan was established. Now, it was time to enact it.

* * *

Trisha couldn't help but feel amazed and empowered at finally having that blasted seal removed from her neck. It was just as much a surprise to her as it was to her sisters, and she daresay even Clair.

She couldn't help but let a cruel smirk form on her face. That filthy human, that wretched bitch that had caused her and her sisters so much pain, was now facing some of the consequences for her actions. She would almost dare to say it was as if divine justice was being wrought upon her, but she knew the truth was less savoury. It was servitude from one master to another. And with that, her thoughts soured.

Sygil was an interesting character. He promised her and her sisters safety and deliverance in exchange for total loyalty. He spoke with confidence and conviction, and after witnessing the carnage he was capable of bringing, she didn't doubt he was capable. But, she was also wary. He was devious, and dangerous, just like her previous masters. But he also felt like something more. And it wasn't necessarily pleasant. She had witnessed many men, all human, act the same. With cruelty and violence. It seemed to be the only language they understood, not that she and her sisters were any different. They acted and fought with honour, however. Or at least, that was what she used to believe.

She remembered following Gallheia's orders, agreeing that the humans should be curbed and controlled, for they were naught but a pest, a parasite infecting the lands. She also remembered her fateful mission with her sisters, to retrieve a few strong men, so their seed could be used to help create the next generation of future warriors, afterwards they would be disposed of. Before, she thought nothing of it, but now, after being raped and beaten, she had begun to appreciate how previous victims of her clan had felt. Despair, and hatred.

Now though, it would seem she was at the end of that road of suffering.

 _And onto a new path into hell_ , she thought bitterly as she glanced over to where Sygil and three others were walking from the mansion, their footsteps alerting her to their presence.

It wasn't like there was much she could do anyways. Or her sisters for that matter. The strange beasts that came from the shadows saw to that. Clair had been reduced to a bubbling mess, and was desperate to undo her seal so she could save her husband. She sneered at the thought of him. She hated the couple, and she hated this miserable town.

Once Clair had finished, she was then allowed to heal her husband, who was afterwards taken by two of the mercenaries and held over by the fountain. Frankly, she would have preferred to let him bleed out. But alas, she was in no position to do so.

Clair had set to freeing the remainder of the slaves, her sisters. If she was reluctant, she didn't show it, instead diverting all of her intent and focus into releasing every single one of her sisters. Though, perhaps having one of those demon-esque hounds literally breathing down her shoulder helped.

Upon glancing at them, she recognised the woman mercenary and one of the uniformed men. The other was dressed similarly, but she hadn't seen him before.

The group seemed to split up, with the uniformed men barking out orders to the mercenaries. The woman with them seemed to be assisting them. However, she paid little attention to them as she observed Sygil approach her and her sisters.

"Ah Clair. Just the person I was looking for." The woman stopped what she was doing, glancing up hatefully at the monster standing before her.

Sygil stopped before her, looking down on her as she was crouched down releasing the seal from another slave.

All of the demi-humans seemed to stop any idle chatter amongst themselves and glance up at the human before them. Sygil paid them no heed however.

"How is the progress going?" He almost seemed cheerful.

Clair wanted to spit at him, to shout insults and profanities at him, and to violently butcher him. But, she held her tongue. After the events from several hours ago, she had come to realise she was not in an ideal position. For now.

"I have released most of the slaves seals…"

"See…" smiled Sygil fatherly. "That wasn't so difficult now, was it."

She held her tongue.

"How long until you are finished?"

"You do realise that – " "I don't want excuses. Give me a realistic time frame, or I will finish the job with Beovhan."

Her mouth snapped shut. She had been permitted to heal Beovhan as best as she could, but it was not much. Just enough to seal the puncture wound to his stomach and stop his hand from bleeding out. His hand, however, couldn't be salvaged, not that those blasted hounds permitted her to. And those bloody savages she was being forced to release seemed to enjoy that, even if they didn't voice it. Damn them all! If she couldn't be in control with her husband, then she was going to see to it that no-one could prosper from this outrage. She just needed to be patient.

"Only a couple hours left, at the rate I'm going."

"Then you have one. Don't damage them in the process."

She couldn't help but gape at Sygil. "This takes time, a-and I –" She was cut off by the hound growling next to her hear, which effectively silenced her complaints.

Sygil looked coldly down upon her disdain. "Remember that I am in charge around here now. You would do well to remember that. Now finish up. Or I'll finish Beovhan."

With that turned away from her, focusing his attention on Trisha.

"Now Trisha… How are you enjoying your new freedom?"

Trisha just scowled at him. "From one master to another. How do you think I feel."

"Aw don't be like that," he chided. "It's a mutual agreement, where you are placed under my employ instead. This isn't slavery. Besides, we already discussed what your expectations are. After all, we made a deal. Unless you want to go back on it?"

Trisha frowned. In reality, her circumstances weren't the worst. They were certainly better than what was previously organised between her and her previous masters. Still, she hated the fact that once again she was now a servant. At least, however, she had her seals removed. And so were her sisters. Even though she didn't voice it, she was somewhat grateful towards Sygil for helping free her and her sisters from their previous enslavement. If he was genuine, then he was indeed making the right steps towards building trust. Or, he was that confident in himself. _Or rather, his hounds…._

"No…" she murmured. "I… I can accept the terms you have proposed. So long as you hold your end of the deal. Otherwise, we'll have problems." That last part was directed at him sharply; a warning to not betray her. It was frankly quite amusing. And for that, he let the comment slide. After all, given time he was assured she would come around completely.

"I assure you, I have no such intention." She couldn't tell if his reassuring smile was genuine or not, so she paid it no heed. However, she noticed him start to look around as if searching for something.

Furrowing her brow quizzically, she inquired. "What are you looking for?"

"Where's Beovhan? He was here when I left him?"

"Oh. After Clair healed him, two of the mercenaries dragged him over to the fountain over there," she gestured to a fountain in the middle of the paved road down the street where, sure enough, were two figures standing watch over a slumped figure.

Sygil narrowed his eyes upon glancing at Beovhan from afar. "I see. Well, I'll deal with that situation later once Clair is done. In the meantime," he glanced back at the huddled ex-slaves before directing his attention to Trisha. "Have you informed them of their new arrangement?"

Trisha pursed her lips. "I… mentioned that they will likely be placed under new employ."

Sygil shook his head. "Not likely. Definitely. Let me remind you of the deal we had. I free all of you in exchange for absolute loyalty. After all, everything comes at a price."

"And what exactly is this price?" a voice from the huddled demi-humans called out.

Sygil raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

The demi-human stood up, revealing an older tanned woman draped in a ratty brown cloak to shield against the cold. "More importantly, who are you? We hear claims that you are our benefactor, yet you seem to be holding Trisha hostage to a verbal arrangement. I do not presume to know the details, but I do beg the question, for all of us, what are your intentions?"

"An exchange. I promised to grant you all your freedom, security, safety and lodging to Trisha. In exchange, you will loyally serve me as the foundations of my new army, as well as provide some additional labour. You will be compensated for your work, of course. I do want to set the precedence that I indeed want to genuinely see to your wellbeing."

Perhaps it was best not to say that as many of the demi-humans looked around him sceptically, looking at the blood and carnage that still hadn't been cleaned up. A result of his displeasure.

"Really?" The woman raised her own eyebrow.

_Oh for fuck's sake, can't you just accept the fucking deal and situation. I just saved your asses._

He didn't voice such thoughts, though, opting to remain composed.

"Exactly. Your freedom and safety in exchange for a loyal army and workforce."

The woman hummed to herself. "We need time to think this over." Sygil's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"You misunderstand. This isn't an _option_ for _you_. I made a deal with Trisha, who represented your behalf, so ultimately the decision rested with her. And she has agreed to the terms. The matter is settled, and I will not waste any more time while you decide whether or not you choose serve me. I have granted you your freedom, and I guarantee your safety. However, only if you agree to pledge allegiance to me."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she spat at him. "I don't think you understand, _human_. We serve Gallheia. Not you. So don't – " the words died in her throat as she felt and heard sudden breathing down the nape of her neck.

She turned around and everyone scrambled back away in shock as another shadow-hound materialised behind her.

Sygil strode forth methodically to her, his voice containing an edge to it as his eyes narrowed.

"No I don't think you understand. Gallheia abandoned you, whereas I have delivered you from the hell that was your life. I think you can _all_ appreciate that truth. So let me make things clearer to you."

By now, he was looming over the woman. "Any past allegiances you hold are long since severed. It is futile to place faith in a woman that holds little interest for your lives, as Gallheia did."

The woman sneered at him, a small act of defiance. "Oh please, as if you care about our lives. You intend to just use us."

She had guts, he had to admit. Most people usually cowed before him, especially once he summoned a shadow-hound to help… move negotiations along.

"No. But at least I am honest about my intentions. What I expect of you all, I have already stated. Trisha can inform you all in more detail. But that is the ghist of things."

He stepped back from the woman and surveyed all the remaining demi-humans, including Trisha.

"I do intend to see an improvement in your conditions. But I can only guarantee that if you all pledge allegiance to me. Otherwise, you are a liability. And I do not like liabilities." They all seemed to understand the implications, even though they remained silent.

"I suggest you all forget Gallheia, for she has certainly forgot about you. Together, we can make a better future. But I will need your loyalty."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment.

"I'll give you one hour to reach a consensus. That will give Clair here enough time to finish freeing you all. Trisha can help fill you in on any of the finer details. I hope you choose wisely…."

And with that ominous warning, he turned and left, heading towards Beovhan and the two mercenaries watching over him.

Trisha and the others glanced at the shadow-hounds prowling in the darkness around them. It wasn't like they could actually do anything to resist at this point in time.

* * *

The two mercenaries standing guard over Beovhan glanced up upon hearing footsteps getting closer. They quickly grew wary upon seeing who it was that was approaching. They had just been informed of their new arrangement by Alizia and a uniformed man named Hans.

Upon remembering the slaughter from earlier, they were more than happy to concede to the new contract. Their loyalty was bought less out of coins and more-so out of fear, and for good reason.

"Mister Augustus. Are you awake?" Sygil sounded bored. Beovhan stirred, tilting his head up as the two mercenaries held an arm each to hold him in place.

Beovhan felt a scowl cross his face upon seeing Sygil before him.

"Fuck off."

Sygil chuckled at that. "How quaint."

He straightened up, before addressing the two mercenaries.

"Go and grab two cages that the slaves would normally sleep in and bring them out the front of my mansion now." The two mercenaries looked at each other uncertainly, until Sygil snapped at them more loudly. "Now goddammit!"

That spurred the two on, and they borderline ran off to go fetch the two cages, unawares of the shadow-hound that Sygil tasked to track and observe them so that they didn't flee.

Beovhan didn't miss how Sygil referred to his own home as _his_ mansion now. He winced as he held the stump of where his hand used to be.

"You're fucking cocky one, aren't you," he all but practically spat.

Sygil kneeled down to him, carelessly letting his hands dangle over his knees, as he looked him straight in the eye.

"I am in control, is what I am. You are currently going through denial and anger, but that will change soon."

"What, you're gonna let me go then?" scoffed the injured man.

Sygil couldn't help but smile ruefully. "Now we both know that isn't going to happen. You are treading on precariously thin ice with me, but if you play your cards right, you could find yourself back on stable land."

"And what is it you exactly want? You've already stolen everything from me."

"Now now. I don't steal," admonished Sygil. "You helped draft and sign a new deed for me willingly."

"Bullshit, and you know it. This is fucking extortion!"

"Oh please, you practiced the same tactics no-doubt."

"I didn't steal from people, nor did I extort them of everything they own!"

“No, instead, you enslave and traffick them.”

“I do not! I run a legitimate business – hurghk!”

Suddenly, Beovhan found it difficult to breath as a strong, leather-clad hand tightened around his throat. Sygil's eyes narrowed.

"Don't. Lie. To me. Ever. I saw the records in your office. I know that you drug and traffic people and slaves."

Beovhan struggled to breath and stutter out. "What?! Y-you're… some… fucking saint?! Piss… off!"

Sygil regarded Beovhan for a moment longer, before finally relenting and letting go of his throat.

The man keeled over, gasping for air.

After a moment to regain his composure, Sygil stood up, dusting off his jacket dismissively.

"Why… why are you doing this?!" breathed out Beovhan haggardly.

Sygil just eyed him impassively.

"Is this for _justice?_ Because you feel sad for a couple of fucking animals?! Or peasants! Answer me you sick twisted fuck – OOOF!" His rant was interrupted by a painful kick to the family jewels, and the man keeled over again, this time clutching his nether region painfully.

"Get up."

The order was sharp and hard. Beovhan glared at the suited man in front of him hatefully.

Reluctantly, he stood up slowly, moreso out of spite than compliance.

Before Beovhan could do anything, Sygil roughly grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close before turning and shoving him in the direction of Clair and the demi-humans. "Start walking."

The first rays of sunlight could be seen arriving over on the horizon, signifying the arrival of dawn.

The dawn of a new day… and a new era.

* * *

It had been more than an hour since Sygil forced Beovhan to start walking, and currently he was sitting in his new office, reviewing more paperwork and writing notes down to help further clarify his current understanding.

Every now and then, he could hear a door downstairs opening, followed by several muttering voices and the clanging of metals being deposited.

He didn't know how much metal, or what types, were acceptable, so he wasn't taking any chances and had everything that was metal or valuable brought to the room below. From simple cooking pots to suits of armour; gold and silver, cast iron and gemstones.

He had a plan of action, but now he had to follow through on it and iron out any kinks present.

A knock on the door woke him from his thoughts.

"Enter."

The door opened, and the sight of Trisha greeted him, or rather momentarily surprised him.

"The rest of my sisters have come to a conclusion."

She didn't bother with pleasantries nor introductions, opting for going straight to the point.

Sygil nodded slowly. "I see. And….?"

Trisha kept her eyes somewhat downcast, as if she had regrets about what she was about to say.

"We have decided, that we will _assist_ you in your goals, so long as you stick to your end of the deal."

"Wonderful!"

"However," she continued, causing Sygil to tilt his head slightly.

"We also want some closure, concerning Gallheia."

Sygil narrowed his eyes at that. "You want to return to her?"

"No," she whispered softly. "We want to know of her fate. At some stage, we would… _appreciate_ it if you could give us closure on her."

Sygil started to realise what the request actually was, mouthing an 'ah' silently as he nodded his head slowly.

"Maybe at a later stage, I can see about that. However, now is not the time, as I need everyone's focus on the tasks at hand. Is that clear."

Trisha slowly nodded. "Yes."

"Was that all?"

"No. Clair," she sneered at the name, "has just about finished undoing the final seals on my sisters."

"I suppose that is important news. Good. I'll come down in a minute. I don't want them harmed yet, am I understood."

She understood he was referring to the couple, and while she would have loved the opportunity to inflict pain on them, she had a feeling that her new leader already had that base covered. If the carnage he had wreaked upon those that resisted, and on Beovhan and Clair had been an indication.

"Very well," she replied curtly. "I'll see you by the cages then."

And with that, she closed the door and left.

Sygil was left staring at the door, holding another document in his hands.

_Soon, everything will come together._

With that thought in mind, he stood up and began to leave the room. It was time to get some information.

Sygil couldn't help but cruelly chuckle at the sight that greeted him outside the mansion.

"Poetic, isn't it."

Beovhan simply glared at him from inside the cage he was placed inside.

Sygil ignored him as he continued. "You've gone from placing people in cages, to being placed in one yourself."

Beovhan jutted his chin out before turning his head to look away.

Sygil allowed a smirk to creep back onto his face as he walked over to Clair.

"Don't worry, I'll be with you in just a minute."

True to Trisha's words, Clair was finishing on literally the last slave.

Coming to stop mere metres away from her, he studied her. She looked exhausted, but he cared little for it. _All the more easy to break you and interrogate._

Glancing over to his left, he observed his new army and workforce.

They looked worn and haggard, some were malnourished, others were exhausted looking. All issues that could be resolved with time, so he wasn't overly concerned.

"I hear you are pledging allegiance to me."

Some of the demi-humans looked at him with disdain, others mistrust, and many more with uncertainty. While he expected just as much, it was a rather sad sight to see.

"Cheer up, this is the beginning of a new era. And you will all play a part in remaking history. In shaping the future." His words did little to change their expressions.

_Well, time will tell whether or not this is a worthwhile investment. I hope it is._

He still had to wait for Clair to finish undoing the last seal on the slave's neck, and so he opted to observe what she was doing.

Clair was kneeling in front of the demihuman before her, as if in prayer. The strange black tattoos inked on her neck could be seen to emanate a small blue light, with white and blue particles appearing around the tattoo.

Clair was mumbling something, but he couldn't quite catch it. Just as he leaned in to hear what it was, the light around the seal suddenly transformed into a bright green mist that emanated light. The tattoo flashed a bright white light, changing from black to pure white.

A gasp could be heard from the demi-human, while sweat poured down Clair's face as she scrunched her face up in concentration.

Suddenly, just as quickly as the green light appeared, it was gone, leaving a faded inked tattoo around the freed slave's neck.

Clair let a ragged breath as she finally finished her task.

It had taken more than the hour she was pressured to do, but that very pressure certainly served to motivate her to get the job done more quickly than the several hours she had intended. It was apparent it had exhausted her. It was a shame he didn't have time to afford to allow her to rest and recover.

Sygil slowly strode over, slowly clapping.

"Well done Clair." Clair looked up, disgust written all over her face. Whether at the tone as if congratulating a child over something menial and insignificant, or over the fact that she had been forced to release her slaves. Perhaps both, but it didn't matter as he reached her.

"You did exactly as I asked. However," her disgusted look suddenly turned to fear as he summoned a sabre into his hand, the motion appearing as if he had drawn it from within his jacket.

"I don't like it when people try to backstab me." The words were as sharp and cold as the very steel of his sabre that shone in the morning light.

Sheer terror shone in Clair's eyes as she fell over onto her back, attempting to scramble.

"W-what are you talking a-about! I did exactly as you asked!"

Sygil strode forward menacing, the blade outstretched to his side.

"Did you really think you could attempt to tamper with the seals to attempt to sabotage them on me?"

"N-no! I-I didn't. I swear!"

"Really now," he cocked an eyebrow up at her in annoyance. "And now you attempt to lie to me."

He sucked a breath in through gritted teeth. "I warned you there would be consequences if you attempted anything."

"No. Please don't kill me! I swear, I didn't do anything other than what you asked!"

He slammed his foot onto her left leg, pinning her from escaping.

"No please! I swear!"

Beovhan could be heard screaming from his cage as he grasped the bar with his good hand, banging his stump violently on the other bars. "YOU GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE YOU COCKSUCKER!"

Sygil ignored him, chuckling darkly.

"Oh really. Kill you? Do you think I'm going to let you off by granting you death? No, your child will suffer for your own actions instead."

Clair's eyes somehow managed to widen even more as he brandished the sabre and aimed it at her stomach. She defensively clutched her stomach in terror.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU TOUCH THEM YOU CUNT!"

Beovhan's frantic screams went ignored.

Meanwhile, in the crowd of demi-humans, many were shocked at what they were hearing. However, many of them, including Trisha, were silently revelling in what was about to transpire, enjoying the anguished screams of the couple.

They say the eyes are the window to soul, and right now, Clair's eyes screamed absolute terror as Sygil locked a hardened gaze with hers.

"Please," she whispered, tears leaking from her face, "I swear I didn't do anything other than what you asked! Please!"

Time seemed to slow down as he stared into her eyes, the sea of emotions pouring out drowning out Beovhan's screams.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Sygil slowly lowered his blade away from her, satisfied with what he saw.

Beovhan was still screaming and shouting useless threats from his cage, while Clair was still petrified with terror.

"Place her in the other cage." Trisha nodded, while Sygil let his sabre dissipate away.

"I'll talk to you and your husband later. Keep your honesty up, and I shouldn't have to go through on my threat."

Clair's racked sobbing could be heard as two of the demi-human women hoisted her by the arms and dragged her to the cage adjacent Beovhan. They were not necessarily gentle about it either.

Sygil turned around to fully address the remaining demi-humans and Trisha.

"Trisha. You are in charge of your demi-human friends. They are your subordinates. However, you all will answer to myself and my two subordinates Hans and Maxmillian."

Trisha looked up at him blandly. "What would you have us do then? You did say we have to serve you."

Sygil didn't fail to note the disdain accompanied by the word 'serve', and made a mental note to watch their progress and if their resentment to servitude of another would cause problems. They had just come out chains, per se, so he would grant them some time to adjust. For now.

"For now," directed Sygil, "you will continue your normal duties of harvesting food from the crops. Hopefully by the end of this week I will be able to relegate you to proper military roles once I get enough equipment."

"I thought you wanted us to play a more military role," questioned on of the slaves in the back.

_I made absolute certain to state your entire duties. I don't like repeating myself…._

Sygil opted to be patient instead.

"Most of you will, once I have finished restructuring the current workbase around here. Until then, you will serve as a labour force where required. And right now, I require a labour force to work on the crops. The mercenaries will deal with any threats, both foreign and domestic. I trust you know where to find your tools and how to farm?"

A couple of disgruntled nods and murmurs confirmed that.

"Good. Hopefully, by the end of this week at the latest, you will have the equipment and clothing you need. Maxmillian will see to your accommodations. Any questions?"

"What about the other humans living here?"

Sygil waved the question away dismissively. "They are currently being re-educated on what their new duties and expectations are. There should be no problems from the residents, nor do I expect you to cause any. Otherwise, the offending person will be dealt with. Anything else?"

There wasn't.

"Good. Remember, strength comes from unity. You are all dismissed. Trisha, walk with me."

Confused, she began to follow him when a voice called out to Sygil.

"Sir. I have rounded up all of the town residents and informed them of their duties. Compliance has been… better than expected."

She glanced over, seeing Maxmillian standing at an attention pose, with dozens of residents in tow, and several mercenaries guarding them.

Upon closer inspection, she could see a couple residents had bloodied or bruised feature, but the majority were otherwise unharmed. At least, physically. There was no mistaking the fear on many of their faces. It brought her some satisfaction, seeing the humans that had allowed this to happen to her, that partook in her violation as well as her sisters, stand there in fear. Ultimately, though, she would have preferred to see their corpses laying on the ground instead.

"I see. Have they surrendered their metals and ores to Hans?"

"He is in the process of still acquiescing them. There is surprisingly a lot more than we expected. I doubt we can actually store all of it in the mansion."

"It matters not. Once we have enough, we can try the automaton."

 _What's an aw-toe-may-ton?_ She didn't get to inquire, however, as the conversation kept moving ahead.

"The inferiority of many of the metals concerns me, sir. I do not know if we can actually make one successfully."

"Still worth a shot. And even if we can't, we can have much of it smelted down to produce weapons and armour. Foundations are important after all."

"Of course sir. There aren't any mines in the town, unfortunately. So, what would you have me do with these," Maxmillian gestured to people he was leading.

Sygil leaned his head to the side to get a better look at them, ignoring the fearful looks on their faces.

He hummed to himself for a minute as he pondered what he wanted.

Finally, he spoke up.

"Any skilled workers, blacksmiths, forgers, builders and so on, have separated and put to work on their respective trades soon. Any other suitable hands can be sent to assist them and increase productivity. As for the rest… they can either assist with the collection of any valuable items and metals. Either that or the fields with the demi's."

"Of course sir."

"Where's miss Grenevaulch?"

"She is assisting Hans sir. Do you want me to bring her before you, sir?"

"No… no, that's fine. I actually will need your help with something, provided you have finished rounding everyone up?"

"Not quite sir. These were the more compliant ones. Some others have been holed up in their houses, so I have set what few remaining mercenaries there are in helping them understand the gravity of the situation, sir. What did you require?"

Sygil pursed his lips as he held a fisted hand to his lips, thoughts racing through his head. Eventually, he came up with a solution.

"Have the mercenaries continue their duties. Trisha can take over the delegation of the residents. The mercenaries here can assist her." He directed his gaze at the residents and mercenaries.

"I trust there will be no problems with that?"

Wisely, no-one objected, too fearful of disappointing the man that had set monsters upon the town.

"Good. Trisha." She straightened up at the mention of her name.

"See to it that they are organised carefully. And preferably unharmed. Oh, and have a couple residents come clean up this mess out here, I'm getting sick and tired of nearly slipping in the blood every time I come out these doors." He gestured widely to the several corpses, blood sprays, trails and stains and bloody entrails that were scattered everywhere. It always surprised him how much of a bloody mess a single human body could leave. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought a bomb had exploded in some of the bodies, there was just that much blood. It just showed how strong and vicious his hounds could be, a testament to their nature.

Trisha nodded her head, and beckoned for the troupe to follow her, which they did.

Sygil watched them leave, going around the mansion behind it. Maxmillian's voice broke his concentration, however.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why did you trust them to that demi-human?"

"A test of sorts. She will be leading the freed demi-humans for me. Since she is supposed to be one of the strongest amongst their group, a leadership role is automatically expected in their eyes. So, I want to see how much of a leader she really is."

"And if she just baselessly kills the residents? If the automaton doesn't work, we would lose some potentially valuable assets for you empire, sir. And all because of her personal grudge towards these humans."

"Oh please," chuckled Sygil. "They are just as much a means to an end as she is. If she kills them or fails, then it proves that she is not suitable to have around. And I would rather find out about that suitability now, rather than later when such actions will deeper potential ramifications for us."

Maxmillian hummed ruefully. "I suppose you have to start somewhere then…."

"Indeed." There was a momentary pause, before Maxmillian spoke up again.

"You asked for my assistance sir? Does it pertain to Mr and Mrs Augustus?"

"Ah, yes actually," exclaimed Sygil, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Since Clair has finished releasing their seals, her use is somewhat non-existent…."

"Except as a bartering tool for Beovhan," finished Maxmillian.

"And potentially for others out there in the world," added Sygil.

"There are too many inconsistencies in their records, and not enough answers, so I want to hear it directly from the horse's mouth."

Maxmillian appeared to become lost in thought for a brief moment, before looking back upto Sygil.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why did you suspect that Clair was lying about the seals earlier?"

"You heard that?"

"Yes sir," nodded the uniformed man in affirmation.

"Oh I knew she wasn't lying from the beginning," dismissed Sygil, an amused smile creeping on his face.

"Then why did you – " "Waste time with such a pointless accusation? Maxmillian, my friend," internally Maxmillian beamed at that, even if he didn't let it show. "I like to always cover my bases. I wasn't here during the whole process of her undoing the seals, and even though my hounds provided the necessary intimidation factor, they can't tell if her actions were genuine. That was just my way of fishing for the truth and double-checking. I honestly doubted she would have tried anything anyways, but there is some merit to it."

"Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds as if you still doubted her?"

"I'd be smart to doubt her, even if I have my own assurances. I've experienced betrayal before, and I'd rather not have it happen again. But that was only part of my reason."

Maxmillian quirked an eyebrow up.

"It served me other purposes. It lets me know how to gauge when she is telling the truth to a limited extent. But it also helps me break her, and Beovhan, before we get to the real questions in a minute."

"Would you have stabbed her and the child then sir?" Maxmillian was curious.

"Psychological torture is more effective than any physical form. I wanted to break her will before she could even muster it. To answer your question… that would ultimately depend. I'd hate to kill a pure soul, especially one that hasn't had a chance to even be born yet. Such souls are so rare and far and few in-between that they should be cherished instead. But, I was not lying when I said I'd follow through on my threat. They know what is at stake, so the questioning should be easy."

"If that is the case, then why do you specifically need me?"

"Because," began Sygil as he turned to walk back to the cages, Maxmillian keeping step with his strides. "While I want to know all of their extra dealings and connections, I'll need your assistance when it comes to collecting information from Clair concerning the Tiered magic around here. Differences, limitations and any other useful things. Considering your knowledge and familiarity, you would be most useful for that."

Maxmillian almost genuflected. "Thank you for your considerations, sir. You are too generous."

Sygil was about to dismiss the blind fanaticism, but he had already arrived before the two cages. Therefore, instead, he opted to observe the two prisoners of his.

In the left cage, covered in some blood and grime, was Beovhan, who looked stressed out. And to his right, was Clair, who was hugging herself and quietly sobbing.

Tilting his head, he spared a brief glance at Maxmillian. "Well, it comes down to this anyways."

With that he turned back to face Beovhan.

"So…. I have a couple questions for you and Clair. And I would very much appreciate some answers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay. I had an unexpected visit by family, and between that and entertaining children until nearly midnight, I found myself fairly tired and forgot to work on this chapter. Yikes. I've scrambled this morning to fix the remaining issues, which was fortunately not too many, mostly very minor dialogue tweaks, such as when Sygil is speaking with Beovhan. That was pretty much it, so yeah..... maybe I should have finished it last night ;_;  
> Anyways, we have done it ladies and gentlemen! The rewrite is officially completed! Irene! Fucking Irene boys! (and gals) (Black Hawk Down reference).  
> And now comes the hard part. I have to finish a brand new chapter and upload it by Christmas day at some stage..... I need to to start shooting up some caffeine to pull an all nighter to finish this chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this, and thank you for your positive feedback and patience with this rewrite. The last couple of chapters were surprisingly easy to fix, which kinda makes sense as I had started to gain a little bit more writing experience by this point. I still have a ways to go, but I like to believe that with each chapter I am improving slowly and steadily.  
> Anyways, peace out, and see you on Christmas day! Consider the next chapter a Christmas present from me ;)


	12. Foundations (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to overlord and its respective content.
> 
> Please see the end notes for announcements.  
> Otherwise enjoy this brand new, never-before seen chapter! 
> 
> :D

**Chapter 12: Foundations (Part 2)**

Hans stared at the mounting piles of precious ores, minerals, gemstones, jewellery, crockery, armour and other miscellaneous metals. So far he had organised and catalogued everything into groups, i.e. the type of items, whether they be loose jewellery or armour. From there, he had further organised everything into the type of metal used for each. The most common were iron alloys and gold, though some copper and brass was present.

With the help of the mercenaries, he had _liberated_ said materials from the residents relatively quickly and with ease. Though, a few had been quick to put up an initial protest, or even dare try to resist and fight back. That was short-lived due to the mercenaries, and the presence of the nearby hounds further subdued the residents into compliance.

By now, everyone had been gathered and, between Maxmillian and Trisha, corralled and designated into assigned duties. They, his creator, Maxmillian and himself that is, were still finalising assigned duties for the residents, and that would still take a couple hours at least, and possibly even the remainder of the day for everyone to come to terms, but it was, regardless inevitable. His Creator’s will was inevitable, and indomitable. They would either comply, or they would die.

He turned to a nearby mercenary that was accompanying him.

“Is this everything?”

“Y-yes it is.”

The mercenary was no older than a late teenager, a mere boy in his eyes. It showed in his mannerisms and actions. Whatever bravado he might have once possessed was long since gone after the massacre and take-over by his illustrious creator.

“You’re sure? I’d hate to find out we are missing something when you had the chance to confirm. Because if so, I will hold you personally responsible.” He didn’t even need to sound angry or cruel. Just by speaking in a dispassionate tone with emotional indifference was enough to make the poor kid almost quake.

“A-absolutely, though I can personally go double check everything i-if you still need me to prove myself.”

Hans merely tilted his head.

“I don’t need you to prove anything. I need everything accounted for, and assurances that it is. If you feel that uncertain, then perhaps it is warranted and you should go check. Be quick about it, though. I don’t have the patience to wait around all day, and neither does our Master. Now go,” he snapped rather than dismissed.

“R-right away.” And with that, the young mercenary all but practically ran out the door, almost running over Alizia as she entered the door.

He mentally sighed. _Absolutely useless waste of oxygen. If I had known he was that useless, I’d of had him shot to begin with._ Alas, he lacked a gun currently, and the Supreme One still needed the mercenaries alive. For now, anyways.

“The remaining residents have been gathered and the demi-human woman is overseeing them. What now?”

Hans slowed turned to face her, sizing her up before he finally addressed her.

“All of the remaining mercenaries have signed the contract, _Trisha_ is learning her new role, and all of the residents have been gathered. All that is needed is to ensure that the items our Master requires are presented.”

“So, if that is all…” she trailed off.

“No,” replied Hans, his soft-spoken mannerisms unnerving her. “Now that those tasks are done, I want you to provide me a detailed list concerning all of your mercenaries. All of their attributes, skills, strengths, weaknesses. I also want birth details, work history and experience, and recommendations on who are the most effective, and who are the most redundant. I want it by midnight at the latest. Tardiness will not be accepted.”

“O-of course. I understand.” She bowed, before leaving the mansion.

_Do all of these mercenaries have a stuttering problem?_

* * *

Sygil stared at his two prisoners locked in separate cages before him. Beovhan was clenching and unclenching his remaining knuckle, whilst Clair was too distressed to even grace his presence with even the briefest of glances.

Sygil glanced at Maxmillian.

“Maxmillian, could you do me a small favour and get our dear friends attention?”

“Of course sir.”

He wasted no time, drawing his sabre before slamming the flat of the blade against Clair’s cage with considerable force.

The cage rattled, and Clair let loose a small scream amidst her down-pouring of tears, before furtively glancing up between Maxmillian and Sygil. Beovhan snapped his head in Sygil’s with such speed he was almost amazed the man didn’t break his own neck.

It didn’t take long for Beovhan’s features to morph into absolute fury.

“You….” He snarled. “You sick, twisted, fucking aborted slime of an afterbirth….”

_Now that’s a new one_ , mused Sygil before he interjected.

“I feel you should reserve that title for yourself and your wife.”

“I hope you die a horrible fucking death.”

Sygil squatted down, quirking an eyebrow.

“Death has a hard time catching up to me. As for your wife and child, though? Well, let’s just say my patience is very limited right now, and I have entertained your antics long enough. Give me any more problems and the only abortion around here will be from your wife as I disembowel her, are we clear?”

Beovhan trembled with anger, but after a few seconds, he finally appeared to accept the reality of his situation, and with a defeated slump of his shoulders, he at last relented.

“What do you want? There’s nothing left to take from us of any value.”

“On the contrary, actually.”

Clair looked at him, her eyes red as she clutched her stomach even more tightly.

“Your account records.” Began Sygil.

Beovhan looked at him in slight confusion.

“What about them? You already have access to them?”

Sygil rolled his eyes.

“I know I do. What I want to know is the fact that you are making payments upwards of 40,000 gold, undisclosed might I add. No declaration of tax, no record of what the payments are for or why, and only that you keep subtracting that amount every six months.”

Sygil leaned forward.

“What I want to know is to whom, and why.”

“It’s… complicated.”

Sygil merely raised an eyebrow at Beovhan non-plussed, before nodding to Maxmillian.

Maxmillian pulled back his sabre and aimed it at Clair, before Beovhan suddenly realised what was going to happen.

“W-wait! A-a man named Marcus Deuobr’e!”

Maxmillian halted his blade, while Sygil gestured for him to continue.

“Go on.”

“H-he comes to collect payment every six months as well as any slaves we get!”

“So why are you paying him to take your slaves? That seems a little counter-intuitive if you ask me?”

“The money’s not for the slaves. We don’t even make any profits from giving him the slaves.”

Sygil felt himself scoff incredulously.

“Then why the fuck are you even giving him slaves if you’re not even getting something in return?! For a supposed investor, you sound like you have set yourselves up a real dumb fucking deal.”

“I thought you detested slavery?” Shot Beovhan.

“Oh I do,” confirmed Sygil. “But even I can appreciate the business intricacies involved in trafficking anything, even if it is people. Which is why I’m astounded at how bad of a deal you have got.”

Sygil through his hands in the air as he stood up, at a loss for words at the idiotic deal he was hearing.

“Because it’s not a business deal,” moaned Clair amidst hitched breaths and tears.

Sygil glanced at her before addressing Beovhan.

“Can you explain what she means?”

“We owe Marcus Deuobr’e a debt after we made a mistake. In order to keep our life running safely, we had to begin making payments to amend what we did, and the slaves we sold to him had to be gifted freely instead as compensation,” explained Beovhan miserably, head hung low.

“What sort of a mistake did you make to get into that sort of position?”

“We put a hit out on one of our competitors in the farming business, who just happened to be related to a prominent drug-dealer,” sobbed Clair.

“We didn’t know until after he was nearly assassinated, a-and then Marcus and some thugs came to us one night.” Sygil didn’t know if she was crying over the memories or the previous trauma he had inflicted. He didn’t really care either way.

“So,” exhaled Sygil in exasperation. “You essentially put the hit out on someone related to a mob boss, and Marcus made you a deal to preserve your life, and now you are in a semi-fucked position, while still treading on thin ice. That sum it up?”

Beovhan pursed his lips whilst nodding slowly in defeat.

“Great,” frowned Sygil as he ran a gloved hand through his hair.

_This is just what I need._

“Care to explain who it was you exactly pissed off?”

Beovhan replied tersely. “We don’t know.”

“Really? You just said it was a notorious drug-dealer, and yet you don’t know who? I find that hard to believe.”

“We. Don’t. Know!” Beovhan’s voice hardened with each word.

“All I know is that you’re fucked now that you’ve stolen our property and assets. They’ll come for you instead, and there’s nothing you can do against them. And I’ll enjoy watching them kill you slowly!” Beovhan was beginning to sport a satisfied small smirk.

“You have no idea who it is you’re messing with.”

“And frankly,” retorted Sygil. “I could care less. If they get in my way, they’ll die. Simple as that.”

“Sir!”

Sygil craned his neck to look behind him.

Hans was walking up to him with a piece of parchment and a quill.

“What is it?”

“I have finished gathering and cataloguing all of the materials you requested. I have listed everything here for you, sir.” He handed him the parchment, which he accepted.

After quickly skimming over everything, he glanced up to Hans.

“Will this be sufficient?”

“Based on what we know, it should be sufficient to create a basic automaton, roughly Level 25. Afterwards, it should be able to level up as it accomplishes tasks, or if you grant it XP, sir.”

Sygil slowly nodded his head in affirmation, a small smile creeping onto his features.

“Good.”

He passed the parchment back to Hans, who accepted it, rolling it up and tucking it in a pocket inside his uniform.

“How long should it take to create one?”

“I hypothesise a couple hours at most, depending on the level of detail and customisation you provide it, sir.”

Sygil shot a brief glance at Clair behind him as he quietly hummed to himself.

“Hmmmm. That sounds reasonable. Maxmillian.”

“Yes sir?”

“Get a couple of the mercenaries to take these two,” he pointed with a thumb over his shoulder, “out to the back yard of the mansion. Keep them in their cages.”

Maxmillian nodded his head sharply.

“Right away sir.”

Sygil briefly watched as he wasted no time in quickly fetching several mercenaries, barking orders harshly at them to move the two prisoners and their cages.

After several minutes, accompanied by indignant insults from the two captives, the whole caged setup was finally moved out to the back garden, escorted by Maxmillian who supervised.

Sygil felt himself suddenly chuckle. Hans glanced at him curiously.

“Perhaps Trisha will use them as an example for the residents.”

“Won’t she just kill them to make a point though, sir?”

“She won’t. She knows I need them alive. How long their usefulness lasts depends though.”

“Indeed sir…”

After a momentary pause, Sygil finally sighed, outstretching and interlocking his hands with a stretch.

“Well. I suppose we better get this automaton – “

Muffled hooves, panicked voices and the faint sound of wooden wheels on stone interrupted him.

Hans and him exchanged a curious glance.

The noise was getting louder and louder, a sign of it getting closer.

“What the…?”

Suddenly, at the far end of the street beyond the central water fountain, a wooden cart pulled by two horses came speeding around the corner.

The horses were galloping straight towards the mansion, and not showing any sign of slowing down.

Finally, as they reached the fountain, the rider reigned his horses in as they swerved around it. The horses eventually slowed down to a complete stop immediately before Sygil and Hans, just several metres shy of the mansion and front gardens itself.

The cart was covered by a high-reaching cover, likely canvas or some other material. Wooden supports could be seen pressing on the tarp from the inside.

Sygil couldn’t help but muse. _Almost like one of the old western caravans from centuries ago_.

As the two horses loudly panted for breath, finally enjoying some respite, the driver could be seen hopping down from his seat.

A leather coat adorned a wiry looking man who appeared in his early forties. A small, pointed, blonde beard protruded from his chin and wrapped around to his ears, though he lacked an accompanying moustache.

The man’s face was sharp as a knife, with a hooked nose to accompany. A loose mop of blonde hair rested atop his head, while sharp beady eyes covered by half-rimmed glasses scrutinised himself and Hans.

The man strode towards the two of them, peeling off his brown leather gloves while looking at them disinterestedly.

“Where is Beovhan?” The man all but practically demanded.

Sygil shot an eyebrow up as he glanced at Hans, before addressing the approaching stranger.

“Beovhan is currently indisposed right now.”

“And who, pray tell, are you?” The man had his nose upturned at them, and his overall demeanour wasn’t doing much to persuade Sygil of a less than snobbish persona.

“I believe I should be asking you that,” began Sygil, catching several puffed mercenaries running up behind the coach.

“Considering, after all, that _you_ are the one that barged onto my property unannounced.” By now the mercenaries had caught up.

“Something I will be sure to discuss with my mercenaries about.” The three mercenaries felt themselves wither under his stare.

“Your property?” Balked the stranger incredulously.

“Yes. _My_ property.”

“Hmmpf, yes well,” the man pulled his glasses off to polish with a handkerchief that he somehow produced, wiping them disinterestedly.

“My name is Reginold. Reginold Ohio.”

The name clicked with Sygil’s memory.

“Ah, I believe Beovhan mentioned your name. You’re a wandering trader, correct?”

That perked his attention, as he shot his eyes upwards mid-wipe.

“He did? How do you know him?”

“Simple. He sold the property to me.”

“Really? He didn’t strike me as wanting to sell this any time too soon.”

Sygil merely shrugged.

“He had some financial problems that needed taking care of.”

Reginold delicately put his glasses back on.

“Well, if he’s not here, then I guess I wasted my time coming here. Still, it’s such a long journey,” he lamented.

“Well, it’s not entirely a waste,” started Sygil, adopting a warming smile.

“I heard you sell rather interesting items, and I would be interested in seeing your stock if you have anything interesting. You can stay here for a couple nights if you need to before you leave.”

Reginold wasn’t the only one that was surprised, but Hans did a better job hiding it.

“Really? Oh, well, erm, that’s generous of you. Perhaps I can stay, but I’m not sure if you can afford the items I have though…” he tailed off uncertainly.

“Nonsense. If I can afford this property, I think I can afford whatever it is you are selling.” Sygil did his best to appear disarming.

Reginold, however, only smirked in response. “We’ll see…”

* * *

“500 gold for this?!”

Sygil and Hans were currently gathered around Reginold’s caravan, which had been opened up to display several items. Maxmillian, meanwhile, was disciplining the three mercenaries that had allowed Reginold to breach past them.

“I told you, I’m not cheap,” replied the trader with a smug smile.

“For a map…”deadpanned Sygil.

“Not just any map.” Reginold raised a lecturing finger.

“A highly detailed map. Hand crafted by the legendary adventurer – “

“I could care less,” interrupted Sygil.

“Hmmpf. Suit yourself.”

Hans, meanwhile, was examining all of the herbs, plants and apothecary bottles displayed.

Sygil slowly strode over.

“Anything useful?”

“Several of the materials you requested prior in Yggdrasil are here. While not all of it is present, there is enough to start creating the basic starting processes for some remedies, sir.”

Sygil placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

“Hmmm. That is good. What have we got so far?”

“Alarosaceia, Tervinhub, Roots of Jaklan, Rose of Thoryn, Ginger root, Beckhart leaves. Then there’s the apothecary items.”

“And they’re all efficacious?”

“Theoretically, yes. Sir.”

Sygil glanced at Reginold.

“How much for your whole stock of herbs, plants and apothecary?”

Reginold couldn’t but stutter in shock.

“I-I beg your pardon?!” The man’s eyes looked as if they wanted to burst from their sockets.

“How much,” reiterated Sygil a little more harshly.

“For all of it… about 20,000 gold.”

_Holy fuck, this man is insane?!_

“20,000?” Sygil frowned sceptically.

“20,000,” confirmed Reginold smugly.

“For only a couple plants and jarred liquids?”

Reginold scoffed in annoyance.

“These aren’t just any mere plants or “jarred liquids”,” he used air quotes to further emphasise his point.

“These are incredibly rare herbs and plants, cultivated under extreme conditions by professional mages and researchers. They are incredibly rare and difficult to acquire, and their properties make them double in terms of price.”

“Really? And do you know who happens to culture them and where I could find them?”

“Pffft, hahaha!” Reginold almost doubled over, clutching his stomach whilst Hans shot him a withering glare that went promptly ignored.

“I can’t give away my suppliers like that! Besides,” his laughter started to fade. “Even if I wanted to, they are very reclusive people, in an even more reclusive and remote location. I normally collect them via a middleman. They’re extremely paranoid folk.”

Sygil let his gaze wander amongst the products.

“I see. And where do you meet this middleman, exactly?”

“Depends,” shrugged Reginold.

“Usually we meet at the capital when I restock on materials.”

Sygil nodded his head slowly.

“So what about the apothecary supplies you have?”

“Well, I get them from various reputable suppliers and pharmacists. They sell to me for a pretty good deal so I can sell them slightly more cheaper. If only that old hag Lizzie would bother to though,” he grumbled the last part sourly under his breath.

“Still,” began Sygil, picking up a glass bottle containing a blue liquid inside it. “200 gold for this? What is it even?”

Reginold looked slightly miffed.

“ _That_ is a healing potion. And not just any kind either. It’s made using a special recipe by mages from the Slane Theocracy. It is said to have been passed down from their Holy Scriptures and even their founding gods themselves, though the original recipe was lost to time. This is one of the most superior Healing Potions on all of these lands. So, of course, you can appreciate its price and the effort I had to go through to acquire it.”

Hans interjected with an unimpressed look on his face.

“I was under the impression that healing potions were red? This looks fraudulent and absolutely vile.”

If looks could kill, Reginold would have tried.

“Excuse me?! I sell nothing but high quality products, assured by highly experienced manufacturers and traders. I sell only the best! Besides, what exactly would you know about a Healing Potion anyways?”

Hans shot him an inquisitive look, but Sygil was quick to respond.

“If it is as good as you say it is, then I’ll consider taking it. However, I too also have my doubts about its authenticity.”

He still remembered the Healing Potion he had consumed inside Yggdrasil was red.

“Look, if you’re not going to buy it, then I’m not going to bother staying around.”

“Do you happen to sell any other items that are not on your person currently?”

“Well, of course,” Reginold rolled his eyes.

“Every trade has different items. Seeing as you appear interested in the apothecary and herbal items, _if_ you buy anything from them, then I will come back with several different herbs and items for you to browse. I do like to keep my business floating after all.”

“How long would that take?” Inquired Sygil. Considering the range of items that Reginold was selling, and their medical potential, if he could procure more items, particularly the herbs to cultivate, then his chances of resolving his Holy Infection would drastically improve.

_Especially considering how stagnant progress was in the real world and even Yggdrasil._ Though upon looking at Hans, he couldn’t help but reconsider.

_Still, it has provided me the necessary information, and two loyal subordinates…._

“About two months,” suggested Reginold.

“I have to finish my route and then head back to the Royal Capital to stock up on supplies. I can make sure to stock up on some extra goods if you will purchase them.”

Sygil flashed a quick smile to Reginold before he turned to address Hans who was standing patiently..

“Sound’s good. Hans. Is everything else here up to standard and of potential use?”

“It’s a starting point, sir,” affirmed the NPC cautiously.

Sygil clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“Excellent. Go fetch 20,000 gold for our guest. I’ll start unloading all of his herbs and apothecary goods.”

Hans merely bowed, before wheeling around to fetch the gold required.

“Of course sir.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Sygil and the travelling merchant alone.

Reginold peered after Hans as Sygil began to offload the herbs onto a pile on the ground.

“Rather strange fellow, isn’t he?”

“He’s my subordinate. Nothing strange about it,” dismissed Sygil.

“Yes…” frowned the trader suspiciously.

“So, where are Beovhan and Clair anyways?”

“They are currently away. They sold the place and left. Where they have gone, I don’t know.”

Reginold, however, pursed his lips as he genuflected, steepling his hands together.

“That’s strange. Did they happen to say why they were leaving?”

Sygil glanced at him.

“Not really. Only that they had some financial difficulties they needed to resolve.”  
“Hmm. Curious…” muttered the man.

“Curious,” confirmed Sygil.

It didn’t take long for Hans to return with the gold, carried by several mercenaries in three large chests, who were more than eager to place the heavy chests on the ground.

“20,000 gold as requested,” supplied Hans indifferently.

Reginold’s eyes seemed to gleam as he took in the sight before him.

“A pleasure doing business,” thanked Reginold, greed plastered across his face.

Sygil ignored him however, favouring addressing the mercenaries and Hans.

“Help him load the gold onto his cart. Hans, help me take these items inside. We can look at them later. I want to create the automaton first.”

“Right away sir!”

“Wait,” called Reginold.

Sygil and Hans glanced over at him in confusion.

“Where am I going to be staying?”

Sygil just waved him off.

“I’ll have Alizia come and show you to your quarters for the night. Just don’t go wandering anywhere.”

Whether he acknowledged what he was told was debatable. The man was too engrossed in the sheer quantity of gold he had just made, grinning gleefully.

Sygil merely shook his head, and with a roll of his eyes, he proceeded to enter the mansion, Hans at his side.

“Are you sure it’s wise to let him go sir?”

“His interest is only money. Besides, I’ll have him watched by some of the mercenaries. If he shows any signs of becoming problematic during his short stay, then we’ll kill him. However, for now, he is a potential investment.”

Sygil cracked a small smile as potential plans and ideas raced through his head.

Hans, however, didn’t appear to share the same optimism.

“At the expense of 20,000 gold, sir? Forgive me for saying so, sir, but that is a ludicrous amount to be paying off for what we have received.”

“Hans,” chuckled Sygil. “In order to make money, you have to spend money. 20 grand is hardly a dent on our finances. Besides, he will be motivated to return with new items to make what appears to be easy money. Besides, I do need those items rather immediately.”

“Then why not just take them from him by force, sir?”

Sygil pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened the mansion door.

_You sound just like Maxmillian._

“Because,” sighed Sygil, “if he is _alive_ , he can bring more traders here with potentially valuable items. Not to mention the previous points I just mentioned.”

Hans shut the door behind them, and Sygil nearly did a double-take at the sheer quantity of materials piled across the floor throughout the rooms.

“Well,” he started once he got over his initial shock.

“That is a lot of metal….”

“There’s more in the other rooms sir,” supplied Hans.

“Oh I’m sure,” frowned Sygil.

“Go fetch Alizia. Have her escort Reginold to his quarters and watch over him. Once you’re done, return here. I’m going to fetch Maxmillian. Then we can get started on the automaton.”

“At once,” bowed Hans, before he exited the mansion to carry out his new duties.

* * *

When Hans returned, Maxmillian and Sygil were standing near the base of the stairs, idly chatting and overlooking the assortment of metals deposited.

Sygil noticed Hans enter, and called ovially.

“Ah, you’re back Hans.”

“Of course, sir. My services are required here, sir.”

“Indeed,” nodded Sygil.

He was idly fidgeting with the Ring of Creation with his left thumb and index finger. He had several ideas for how he envisioned his automaton, but ultimately the capabilities and limitations of the ring would be the determining factor.

“Now,” began Sygil.

“I want the best quality metals. The higher quality the starting materials, the higher the quality, levelling and durability of the automaton, correct?” He glanced at both of his subordinates for input.

“That should be correct sir,” nodded Maxmillian, with Hans nodding in affirmation.

“Well then,” smirked Sygil as he adorned the ring.

“Let’s get this show started then, shall we?” And with a flourish of his ring hand, he activated the ring.

Upon activation, a small, orange, translucent holographic control panel materialised directly before Sygil, though he suspected it was only visible to him judging from the lack of reactions from his two NPCs.

_Then again, they don’t react to anything noticeably._ Well, except anything assumed hostile, apparently.

_So, I want to create an automaton. How would I go about that?_

After a quick search around, he realised the process was nearly identical to when he created Maxmillian and Hans, with a couple exceptions. Namely, there were no texts for him to digitally import.

_So. Racial class. Automaton. Shape and physical features? Humanoid._

Now came the hard part. He wanted his automaton to be practically designed, so he wasn’t overly concerned about aesthetics. The problem was, it would cost mana levels, which only he could supply. And he didn’t have too many, even from those ported over from Yggdrasil when he arrived here.

There was also the matter of the metal quality. It was, frankly, of inferior quality. Sure, it would be able to offer incredible protection by human standards, but in terms of contributing to his NPCs levels, it was absolutely atrocious. Though, his subordinates did confirm that over time, the automaton should be able to level up, and as a result, the quality of the materials used would improve, and could even be further modified by himself or the NPC itself. That was somewhat reassuring.

“Now,” mused Sygil aloud. “I need to essentially create all of the tools and gear needed as part of the automaton.”

First, he needed an energy source to power the automaton; a core per se. That would cost several levels, especially since he lacked all of the necessary physical components such as a fuel source, wiring, insulators, etc.

Next, he needed to have it encased inside the main body and be thermostatically regulated so as to not overheat the NPC itself, nor interfere with the rest of its functions. That cost more mana.

Now, he lacked enough levels to make the automaton look human at all, so by the time he would be finished it would look like a literal robot. Not that he overly cared.

In terms of in-built tools, he needed an in-built welder, well-articulated hands electronically and mechanically stabilised to produce precision tools and work, and he needed a mana injector to strengthen his NPCs capabilities. After all, the tensile strength of all of the metals present would be significantly weaker when subject to mining hard rock, ores and more. The mana would essentially make the copper and iron digits and in-built tools the equivalent of titanium coated, and improve overall durability to last even longer.

Of course, that came at the cost of depleting half of his available mana. Still, now his automaton would be capable of mining, construction and precision work.

In terms of an internalised processing core, or sentience, he needed to invest half of his remaining mana into an internalised computer inside the NPC’s head, an artificial ‘brain’ so to speak. This would allow his NPC to communicate, run complex mathematical models and equations, process data and information and deduce a logical outcome, as well as communicate successfully with anyone.

However, he was left with only a handful of mana points and XP left, barely enough to allow language processing and different visual filters for vision and scanning. This included simple infrared, night-vision, very limited X-ray vision and regular broad-spectrum colour akin to human vision.

By now, he had expended all of his available mana and XP points. All that was left was to finalise the basic design.

After some back and forth between Maxmillian and Hans to select suitable materials present on the floor that were practical and affordable to add to the NPC, he was finally ready to save his creation. All he needed to do at this point was name it.

“So,” breathed Sygil after several hours. “What should we name him?”

Hans had a thoughtful fist to his chin, while Maxmillian simply deflected the question back to Sygil.

“It is your creation, sir. Only you could be capable of granting it a worthy name, sir!”

Sygil couldn’t help but internally sigh. _Well that’s not much help_.

“Well, perhaps…” trailed off Hans, especially under the look Maxmillian shot him.

“No, do continue,” waved Sygil.

“Well, it is a computer, technically, sir. So… how about Quantum?”

His creator stared at him for a couple seconds, a pregnant pause filling the air. For a moment, he wondered if he was foolish to suggest such a name, but then…

“Quantum,” repeated Sygil thoughtfully. “Quantum-47, Q-47 or Forty-Seven for short. I like it.”

Hans felt himself internally rejoice at his creators approval.

“Well then,” began Sygil as he input the name into the creation menu.

“Time to see if you work and effort wasn’t a waste.” And with that, he pressed save. The screen disappeared… and nothing happened.

They stood there for a second until Sygil spoke up in frustration.

“Well, where is he?”

“Um,” coughed Maxmillian, catching both their attention. “I believe you have to activate the ring first, sir,” he offered in a small voice.

Sygil’s eyebrow’s shot up as he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Right,” he nodded, quickly flourishing his ring hand.

This time he was rewarded for his efforts.

“Quantum-47 standing by,” called a deep robotic voice. “Awaiting primary directives.”

To Sygil’s left, the automaton finally materialised. It was exactly as he designed.

Quantum-47 stood at exactly 2-metres in height. He was covered head to toe in solid metal plating which bulked his appearance. There was no perceived frailty or immediately observable weak joints to exploit. All exposed joints were covered in flexible metal tubing, whilst somewhat bulky limbs housed an assortment of tools and equipment in hidden compartments.

He could almost have passed for a bulky human in strange form-fitting armour were it not for his head.

Quantum-47’s head comprised of two short metal cylinders for where the eyes would otherwise be, shielded by a short in-built, domed visor that encapsulated the majority of his skull. A small exhaust vent could be seen at the back of his head, whilst a mechanised vocaliser shaped like a hexagonal air vent jutted from where his mouth would normally be. To finish off, a short stubby antenna protruded from where his right ear would be on a human.

The eyes flickered onto a crimson red, contrasting for a rather sinister look in comparison to his stark grey and black body.

The red optics tracked Sygil’s movements as he approached. Meanwhile, Hans and Maxmillian were both congratulating him. He paid them no heed however as a satisfied smile crept onto his face.

“So, it works. Can you understand me?”

“Affirmative,” droned the mechanised voice. “This unit can understand you fluently.”

“Excellent,” remarked Sygil, standing straight.

“Give me a list of features. What level are you?”

“Currently, this unit is Level 27 Automaton designed by Grand Creator Sygil Amadeus. I am currently capable of category 2 mining, category 4 production and assembly. Armour statistics make me impervious to weaponry weaker than a .50 calibre round fired under optimal conditions. Further upgrades required to improve self-protection and enhance current Levels to optimum efficiency. In summary, comparatively more efficient than a Level 30 meatbag.”

“Meatbag?” _What does he mean by meatbag?_

“Meatbag. Any organic lifeform, which is therefore inferior due to defective physiological traits which impede the overall effectiveness of any tasks assigned. With the exception of you, Grand Creator, all naturally derived organics are weak and useless.”

Sygil felt himself nearly balk.

_So Maxmillian hates anything not ethnically a desirable human, Trisha and the freed slaves hate humans, and now Quantum-47 hates organic life. Fuck my life I have an interesting group of followers…._

Choosing not to dwell on _that_ for now, he opted to begin outlining his orders.

“Well, I hope you don’t hate organics too much, because you are going to be working with a lot of them shortly.”

Quantum-47’s head hydraulics could be heard quietly whirring as he turned to fixate a more attentive gaze upon Sygil.

“Please elaborate?”

“I want you to take all of the newly designated miners, Hans here,” he gestured to him, “will help you. Find a suitable area nearby to begin work on a mining encampment. I want any and all ores, minerals and resources unearthed and refined for later industrial use. You will be in charge of the miners, but note that they are not completely expendable. They are needed alive to work, and any disregard for their overall health and safety will impede my ability to quickly expand.”

“Affirmative. This directive computes,” nodded the ominous machine.

“However, I will require several automated assistant workers to help optimise task efficiency?”

“That’s fine,” dismissed Sygil casually. “Help yourself to the materials here that you need to get started. Hans.”

“Yes sir?”

“Take him out to the back to meet Trisha and his work-force. Get him up to date on everything. Maxmillian.”

“Sir?”

“Make sure Alizia has organised a place of residence for our new guest. And have some of the more competent mercenaries keep him under watch. I don’t want him snooping around and causing me a headache.”

“Right away sir,” nodded Maxmillian.

As Quantum-47 left with Hans, and Maxmillian left to complete his own task, Sygil was left alone with his own thoughts.

* * *

The townspeople were currently gathered in the back yard, still being sorted by Trisha. One such resident, Jeremiah, was sitting on the grass struggling to stay awake as the filthy animal in front of him kept talking and making orders.

Honestly, he wished he could go back to bed, but things had suddenly changed literally overnight. Apparently, Beovhan no longer owned the property, town or his business even! Some newcomer did. And worse yet, he made this dumb bitch in charge apparently!

He would have told the guy to sod off, but apparently, according to the mercenaries and some of the townspeople, the guy was some monster that summoned strange beasts straight from hell. Now, he personally didn’t believe in that hogwash. Now as far as he was concerned, unless he saw it with his own eyes, everybody was just seeing things. There was no such thing as demons, bah.

At that very second, the back door to the mansion opened behind Trisha, revealing _it_.

Monstrous red eyes glowed in the dark, while a black humanoid body that did not belong to any man stepped forth.

He could feel his eyes widen, his heart skip a beat as his pulse skyrocketed, and his bowels prepare to empty themselves on their own accord.

“De-de-de. FUCKING DEMON!” He all but screamed in panic as he scrambled to his feet.

He could faintly hear everyone else’s murmurs quickly turn to panicked voices and even some screams as they mimicked his actions, but he was too far engrossed in getting the hell away from that monster.

Trisha was quick to turn in confusion to see what was causing the commotion, when she saw it as well. She felt her heart skip a beat and her eyes widened a fraction as she laid eyes on it. Until she saw Hans standing calmly next to it.

The strange being slowly walked into the back garden with Hans beside it, strange whirring sounds accompanying its heavy footfalls.

By now everyone was on their feet preparing to run, until Hans bellowed out.

“Everyone, STOP!”

For a human, he sure had a commanding presence, similar to his master, she would give him that.

Almost everyone seemed to freeze at his voice.

“Did Trisha or myself give the order you could leave?” He shot, unimpressed.

“B-but, there’s a demon, standing right next to you!”

Said demon stepped forth, turning its head to address the voice that just spoke.

“I have a name, meatbag. Quantum-47. And you would do well to remember.” His voice came off as a mechanised snark.

“I-it talks?!” Another resident was freaking out.

“Yes I talk. I am capable of more intellectual capabilities than all of you meatbags combined.” He almost sounded disappointed.

Hans, however, pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he let loose a sigh.

“Ignore them, Forty-Seven. They’re nothing but primitive fools anyways. You’ll set yourself up for disappointment if you expect otherwise. Ask me how I know.”

Trisha finally found her voice, and she offered to the duo.

“I have organised them into their groups as required. I have found the ones most physically suitable for mining.”

Quantum-47 snapped his head in her direction, and she could feel her heart spike a little.

“Are you a creation of our Grand Creator, Sygil Amadeus?”

She felt her nose wrinkle slightly at the mention of his name.

“No,” she scowled.

“Then I care not for your input, meatbag.” With that, he redirected his attention back to the townsfolk who were too petrified to move.

“She’s probably one of the more useful ones. Our glorious creator made a deal directly with her for her servitude.”

47 glanced back at her, before dryly commenting.

“A wise decision on her behalf. My opinion of you has now slightly elevated. However, you are still a meatbag.”

She could feel her blood start to boil indignantly at this _things_ attitude. However, before she could even attempt to say something, it spoke.

“Attention all collective meatbags, big and small. I will be taking charge of 13 physically capable and fit beings of your kind for physical labour.”

That seemed to stir several fearful murmurs.

“W-what are you going to do to us?” Came a meek, fearful voice.

“See what I mean,” gestured Hans in disappointment. “Absolutely useless. You tell them something, and they completely ignore it.”

“Affirmative. Perhaps should I institute re-educative programming into the stupid meatbags?”

“H-hey, we’re not dumb!” Called an indignant voice. 47 merely snapped his head to the caller’s direction.

“Clarification. Institutive re-education for the meatbags dumber than the stupid ones.”

Whatever bravado that one individual in the crowd had quickly withered and died under 47’s stare.

Hans quickly interrupted.

“Trisha has already organised them into assigned groups. All you need to do is collect the ones recommended for mining.”

“Why should I trust the judgement of this meatbag?”

“Because Lord Sygil has assigned the task of organising them to her as a test of her capabilities.”

“Affirmative. I still believe it is foolish, however.”

“Do not question our Lord’s decisions,” shot Hans venomously.

“I do not, and would never, question our Lord’s decisions. I am questioning the efficacy of _this_ meatbag’s conclusions.”

“That is why she is being tested,” stated Hans much more calmly this time.

“Understood,” replied 47 after several seconds of computation.

Quantum-47, with a whir of internalised motors, turned to address Trisha.

“Greater meatbag, which of the lesser meatbags do you conclude are the most reliable for working in mining?”

Trisha didn’t know whether to feel offended at the title of meatbag, or somewhat happier at being perceived as a _greater_ meatbag.

Meanwhile, Hans stood to the side, observing everything with hawkish eyes. The residents were fearful of a lot right now.

_So long as they prove their worth, then they shouldn’t have anything to fear._

* * *

Alizia led Reginold into one of the better rooms inside the inn.

“I must protest. Why do I have to stay in an inn like a filthy commoner? Beovhan always let me stay inside his mansion?”

Alizia felt a sigh escape her lips.

“And like I said earlier, the new owner doesn’t want anyone staying inside the mansion.”

“This is bloody outrageous!”

“Look, if you want to protest, take it up with him directly. I’m paid to follow his orders, and that’s what I’m doing, okay?” She could feel her patience for this codger diminishing. She honestly never liked him to begin with, but now that Beovhan wasn’t paying her, she could take some private satisfaction in denying him something.

“And what’s with having armed guards outside my door?”

She glanced at the two mercenaries accompanying her, their armour glinting from the candle-light, their wearer’s faces stoic. A far cry from last night after witnessing that horror-show.

“They’re for your protection,” she stated blandly. Honestly, she had better things to do than talk to this idiot.

“Oh, bullshit,” he hissed. “You and I both know that’s not the truth. I haven’t even done anything, and now all of a sudden I’m being treated like some animal. Locked in pathetic inn room with armed guards outside my door.”

“It’s not like you’re being held captive,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re still allowed to go about freely, it’s just you have to be accompanied at all times and can’t go inside the mansion.”

“And why not, exactly?”

“I – look!” she snapped, catching him off guard. “I don’t make the rules around here. All I know is that I have to follow them. If you want to contest it that badly, by all means, talk to him. I’m sure these two lovely gentlemen would love to help you cut into our employer’s busy time so you can raise complaints about how unfairly you’re being treated.”

Reginold didn’t fail to notice how the two guards stiffened uncomfortably at that, but Alizia continued.

“But if I were you, I’d just take it as it is and leave it be. For your sake, okay?”

Reginold stared at her strangely.

“What’s got you so ansty?”

“Nothing,” she exclaimed exasperated, before turning to the two mercenaries.

“Don’t let him out of your sight, otherwise I’m going to get in the shits, are we clear?”

“Yeah, you’re probably not the only one,” muttered one of the mercenaries.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure we’d all like to avoid ending up like Cain, Gregory or Kandis. So don’t fuck it up.”

The two guards nodded stiffly at Alizias words.

“Good. Now unless something happens, don’t call me at all. Hans wants a report by midnight tonight, and if you make me late, I’m taking you down with me, okay?”

“Crystal,” nodded on mercenary . Alizia shot a glance at the other mercenary. Satisfied, she turned around on her heel and stormed out of the wooden hallway to head back downstairs and continue her other duties.

“So…” began Reginold, however, he was cut off by one of the mercenaries.

“Look, Mr Ohio, our boss isn’t exactly the most forgiving of people, and he doesn’t like timewasters.”

“Yeah,” quickly agreed the other. “We’re not kidding when we say for your sake it’s best not waste his time.”

“Hmpf,” snorted Reginold. “He seemed quite amicable to me earlier? What’s the big deal?”

“Look, you should just be grateful he even bothered to _buy_ your items and give you a free lodging at all.”

“Well of course he would! I’m a high quality merchant! I sell high quality and exclusive items. Which is why he should grant me a better room rather than this rundown piece of shit!” He gestured to the cracks one the ceiling, the peeling paint on the walls, and the odd questionable stain throughout the floor. Even the bed looked more like a stone slab covered in a single white sheet that hadn’t been changed in years.

“So, I want you to go fetch him for me, or even better, take me directly back to him,” he demanded, his beady eyes crossed indignantly.

“Yeah,” drawled one mercenary. “Fat fucking chance of that happening.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Look, sir,” the second mercenary, much younger than the first, tried to explain whilst avoiding the withering glare of Reginold.

“Our boss, he, uh, is not someone you want to piss off, okay?”

“What exactly do you mean?” snarked the older merchant.

“Look,” he whispered conspiratorially, glancing furtively around. “He’s really bad news. He could have easily killed you and robbed you, but he didn’t. So, maybe it’s best to just stay inside here?”

The older mercenary roughly grabbed his compatriot and leaned down to him, growling in his face.

“Will you keep it fucking down?! For all you know, one of those damned things could be spying on us! You trying to get us both killed?!” He shot a glare up at Reginold, before roughly pushing him back, ignoring his indignant protests as he was shoved into the inn room.

“Just stay in your room until you’re ready to leave tomorrow, okay? It’s safer for all of that way if you don’t go wandering around anywhere.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving a mortified look etched across his face.

_How rude!_

With an airy huff, he stormed over to the bed, double checking his satchel was there, before walking over to the window to open the wooden blinds.

He could see the mansion around the corner at the far end of the street.

As he tried to calm down, he couldn’t help but wonder. _What the hell is going on around here?_

* * *

It was turning to dusk as Sygil stared outside of a window in his mansion, watching dark clouds roll in, cracks of thunder and lightning sporadically erupting as the faint traces of rain arrived.

Everything was, for once, working accordingly. His plans were starting to become implemented. Nothing was interfering with them, and for the first time in months, he felt confident about his injury recovering.

The door creaked open as Maxmillian entered.

“Any updates?”

His loyal NPC was quick to reply.

“Forty-Seven has got a workforce established. He is beginning to search the nearby land for a suitable mine to establish. Hans is collecting several reports concerning the mercenaries and the demi-humans. The merchant is still under guard in the inn, sir.”

“Then we are on track. Soon we can start looking at expanding our army once Forty-Seven islevelled up high enough and we have sufficient starting resources.”

“Of course, sir,” affirmed Maxmillian with satisfaction.

“I’m going to finish looking at the finances,” Sygil gestured to the paperwork scattered on the desk behind him.

“You are dismissed for the night, Maxmillian.”

Maxmillian gave a clipped nod, before exiting the room.

As Maxmillian left the room, Sygil let a satisfied smile work itself across his face. _Everything is going according to plan._

* * *

Reginold tightened his leather coat, pulling the hood up as he opened his satchel.

_Where is it? Come on, where is it? Ah, here it is.”_

Finding what he was looking for, he produced a small chain necklace containing an amulet. A crack of thunder frightened him, causing him to the hide the amulet in his jacket as he shot a glance towards the door, fearing discovery.

Realising it was just the weather, he sighed in relief, before adorning the necklace. The effect was instantaneous. His holy body started to visible fade away into a cloudy mass, only vaguely visible. With the addition of the storm rolling in, and the cover of night, he would be practically invisible to the naked eye. Which was what he wanted as he glanced back at the window, the muffled howling of the wind billowing through the streets below.

Something was not right in this town, and he was going to investigate it. First the paranoia of the guards, then Alizia refusing to hear his case. However, the strangest thing was the sudden appearance of this Sygil character appearing and taking over Beovhan’s land, with Beovhan and Clair just walking away.

Something seemed fishy, and he was damned if he wasn’t going to bother finding out. And the best place to start was at the very place he wasn’t allowed entry; the mansion.

Double checking his lantern was off, and his pillows propped underneath the bed sheets to make it appear he was sleeping, he finally approached the window, and opened it.

He was instantly greeted with a buffet of strong wind and rain in his face. After spending a moment to gather himself, he climbed onto the frame, looking down to get his footing, before making his descent, closing the window after himself.

He was only on the second floor, so he wasn’t that far off of the ground, almost jumping distance, but he still climbed down safely instead.

It was nearly dark, and the lantern lights from nearby houses and street poles were the only thing that permitted him to see in the atrocious conditions.

He took a step forward and nearly slipped in the mud, catching himself from falling at the last second.

After steadying himself, he took a look in the direction he intended to go; the mansion. After checking for anyone on the street, he made his way to his destination.

It took only a few minutes to get to the mansion, and he could make out several lights from the second floor, as well as the silhouette of someone seated near the balcony, hunched over a desk.

After glancing around to ensure no-one was present, he made his way to the front door.

He gave the door knob a slow, gentle turn to see if it would budge, but it was locked. However, he was prepared for this inevitability, so reaching into his jacket, he prepared to pull out a lock-pick. Howver, he stopped mid-reach as he heard.

Voices. Muffled, and inside, approaching the front door.

Glancing around, there was nowhere to really take cover, and while his amulet would help, it didn’t provide total invisibility.

So, instead, he traced the walls of the mansion to enter through the back door.

_I hope there’s no-one on this side, either._

Fortunately, there wasn’t once he finally arrived in the dark.

_Now, I just need to make my way to the back – what’s that?_

Was that a cage?

Curiously, he edged closer when he realised it was actually two cages.

_Why are there cages in the back – is that a person?_

Sure enough, there was someone huddled in the cage, hugging themselves as rain poured off of them.

He was about to ignore them when a flash of lightning illuminated them, revealing them more clearly.

It was a woman in a tattered dress, covered in mud, blood and grime. However, the most catching feature was her face. It almost looked like - ?

“Clair?”

The woman looked up at him, and in the dark he could just make out some of her features.

“Huh? W-who is it?”

It sounded just like her, albeit defeated.

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled the necklace off, revealing himself to her.

“Clair? It’s me. Reginold! What happened, what are you doing in a cage?”

“Reginold?” Clair stirred.

“No, no it can’t be?! Reginold?”

“It’s me! Where’s Beovhan?” However, he could hazard a guess as he glanced at the cage on his left.

Slumped up against the bars was short, portly figure that looked like –

“Beovhan! It’s Reginold!” Clair whisper shouted.

“Huh, Reginold?” Beovhan stirred.

After a second to orient himself, he looked at the vague silhouette of Reginold.

“By the… Reginold, is that you?!”

“Yes, yes it is!” He confirmed frantically. By now, the two were facing him.

“What the fuck happened? Why are you in cages? What the hell is going on?” He rattled off.

He could hear Clair sneer.

“I’ll tell you what happened. That bastard Sygil is what happened.”

“Who’s Sygil?” Though, it didn’t take but a second for him to clue in who Sygil was.

“Oh, I’ll tell you who Sygil is. He’s the fucker that did this to us,” spat Beovhan, though Reginold could barely hear him over the wail of the wind and rain.

Reginold could feel anger wash over him.

“I’m getting you two out of here.”

“No!” They both whisper-shouted.

“Wha-? Why not?”

“You won’t get far. Bastard will find out and track us easily. And once he gets a hold of us, we’re doubly fucked,” explained Beovhan.

“But I can’t just leave you in here?”

“You’re going to have to. For now,” gritted Beovhan.

Before Reginold could retort, Clair spoke up.

“Reggie, I need you to do us both an important favour.”

“What?” Reginold leaned forward to Clair.

“I need you to get to the Noble Court immediately. Tell them what has happened. Once they realise that our property has been stolen, get them to send Baron Joyce.”

Reginold shook his head, however.

“The nobles won’t listen to me, I’m just a merchant!”

“Not if you go directly to Baron Joyce. Write a letter explaining that we have been forcefully invaded. Bring the parchment back to me and Beovhan and I can sign it. If you present that letter to Baron Joyce, he’ll verify it with a Court Mage. He’ll know what to do.”

Reginold’s heart was racing at the enormity of what was transpiring.

“W-what will he do?”

“Simple,” growled Beovhan. Reginold looked at him, but Clair was the one to answer with murderous rage.

“The nobles will be obligated to help us. And Baron Joyce? He’ll send an army 10,000 strong here to flush this parasite off our land and kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've done it! A brand new chapter has been published, never before seen (except by me) until now!  
> I have several important announcements to make, which are essential for readers of this story.  
> For starters, I am taking a two week break from this story, or rather, updating new content. I'm a bit exhausted from editing my content nearly every day as part of the rewrite, and I fell a bit behind on this new chapter and only just finished it today. You can imagine it's not fun trying to finish a chapter mere hours before your deadline runs up.  
> Now? I just want a couple days to a week to catch my breath and spend some time with my family. Plus, renovations and moving things are still a requirement, so I'll be equally busy doing that.  
> After the first week, I'll jump back into writing the next couple of chapters to try and get ahead.  
> However, I will still be posting the rewrite to FFN.net as per my original schedule of every two days. Just no new content for two weeks. Sorry.  
> Good news is, though, that the next chapter will be uploaded on the 8th January, and I'm looking at a once weekly update schedule, likely every Friday at that point. It gives me time to work on new content, as well as balance my life better (cough-cough - renovations - cough - cough)  
> I can also safely say that we have finished New World Exposition, and next chapter onwards is where the REAL story kicks in. And trust me, I have some fun things planned.....  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed X-mas, holidays or just the day in general today.  
> I look forward to seeing you on the 8th of January 2021 ! :D  
> Take care amigos!


	13. Fire and Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ladies and gents, and welcome back to another brand new chapter! Sorry for the delay. I had some real-life responsibilities to take care of as priority. Additionally, I had to spend a significant amount of time to planning the next chapters ahead, as from this point on, the decisions and events that happen will play a significant role in shaping the plot. And the way things were shaping up, if I didn't spend that time to plan the next chapters out properly, I was going to write myself into disaster. Then, I would have to do an ACTUAL rewrite instead of this re-edit I just finished.  
> *Shudder* Just patching dialogue was a pain in the ass. No way am I rewriting whole plot lines. Nuh-uh. What I post, is what I'll live with.
> 
> Now, fortunately, I have resolved all the plot bunnies and culled their population to a much more manageable size, and have been baiting out the rest with a carrot on the stick (i.e., very rough overall draft of basic scenes and plots). We are on track and manageable!
> 
> To all the other great readers that have made it this far, thank you for your patience with the recent delay, and without further adieu, may you enjoy this latest chapter. :D

**Chapter 13: Fire and Fury**

* * *

**3 weeks later (~35 months before arrival of Momonga)**

It had been three weeks since Reginold had left Merigold, taking his caravan of goods with him. He promised to return in a couple months time when he finished his route and restocked.

Meanwhile, Maxmillian had conducted a thorough interrogation on the still captive Clair, gleaming as much information about the world's understanding and capabilities of Tier magic, as well as wild magic.

Much to the reassurance of Sygil, the rumours initially learned in the inn on the second night had proved considerably accurate. The residents of the new world were incapable of performing Tier magic beyond Tier 6, with the only exception being a man in the Baharuth empire. While the name eluded Clair, it was of little consequence currently.

In terms of Tier magic, Tier 4 was considered the absolute professional pinnacle, so rarely achieved that very few such individuals did exist. Tier 1 alone was difficult for many mages, but there would always be the prodigies amongst the masses capable of so much more.

The couple were still kept locked in their cages outside, with the elements wearing away at both them and their clothes, which were by now filthy and tattered. Both had shown signs of starting to lose some weight, but were otherwise still in the healthy range according to Quantum.

Sygil had thought about disposing them, but the potential for establishing connections or even simple ransom were opportunities that stayed his hand. Otherwise, he had little care for their well-being.

Since Reginold had left, Quantum had used the available resources to create three drone assistants at a very meagre Level 14. The drones had assisted in starting to industrialise the mines, which had considerably expanded in the short period of time.

More townsfolk had been recruited into working in the mines, bringing the total labour capacity to 24 individuals, not counting the automatons.

Copper, gold, iron and rare mineral veins had been slowly unearthed, with the valuable ores being stockpiled in an excavated storage room in the mines.

Quantum had left a small demihuman guard detail to watch over the forcefully conscripted humans, while he had converted the resident trades and blacksmiths conjoined buildings into a single industrial centre.

Sufficient levelling on Quantum's part had unlocked the capability for him to create steam-powered equipment. While technological jumps via mere experimentation were possible, Sygil had been informed that the quickest way to advance was to maximise Quantum's levels, therefore unlocking more and more technological capabilities.

It was a contrived process, but Sygil simply surrendered to the absurd fact.

 _So long as we can quickly advance out of the stone age,_ were Quantum's glorious creator's words.

So, Quantum had set to constructing a large industrial furnace capable of mass smelting of the ores, with several foundries and work benches to immediately work on the metals in alloying them before smithing quality armour, swords, shields and whatever other essential materials/items were needed.

Sygil had relented, albeit in disappointment, that he would not be able to advance straight to manufacturing firearms. However, he also had to concede with reality. He was not yet fully established or sufficiently supplied with materials and manpower to achieve such an early feat, not to mention Quantum's limitations. Quantum had reassured him that he was only one level away from unlocking gunpowder, and by extension the ability to research firearms starting with muskets.

 _Salt-peter, charcoal and sulphur,_ listed Sygil irritably, much to Quantum's amusement. However, unlocking the levels would allow for quick mass production of the weapons Sygil desired, so he agreed to be patient and wait.

That still left the demihuman army under-armed and under-equipped. Hence, Quantum had been commissioned to oversee the manufacture of swords, knives, shields and steel armour for them. Leather armour was also being produced by several skilled townspeople.

The demi-humans that he freed had only tattered rags for clothes. That was quick to change.

Within the first week, they were equipped clean clothes and basic leather armour.

They were quick to protest, preferring their more tribal and minimalistic clothes from their days under Gallheia. Sygil, however, tolerated none of it. He was quick to explain the benefits of _proper_ armour, and after a demonstration, they begrudgingly accepted.

Their experience with poorly trained militia had misguided them to believe full-body armour was useless, but now they had a somewhat better appreciation for its benefits. _Provided_ , of course, that there was good quality investments in its durability, practicality, and freedom of motion.

By the end of the third week, Fort-Seven was beginning to roll out the beginnings of basic steel armour. It was manufactured with the beginnings of discovered Aluminum deposits to add to its light weight, while iron and bronze was alloyed into the metal to provide greater hardness and strength.

Of course, the armour was limited in its quantity. This was in part due to the mining only just beginning, but also due to the limited work capacity of the miners, their equipment, and Forty-Seven's level limitations.

Quantum had shown a notable increase in levelling, and was now currently residing at Level 34. At the request of Sygil, Quantum had begun isolating and storing a range of minerals and ingredients to break down into their elemental form. This way, he could have everything needed to effectively manufacture gunpowder, chemicals and acids needed for oxidation and more, as well as quickly progressing to more advanced chemicals and compounds. Sygil was eager for the eventual production of smokeless powder, and Quantum could easily understand why. It was indeed superior to black powder, which was subject to fouling guns, was more visible to opponents, and was ultimately not the most powerful. But, it was a necessary start.

Hans had taken to overseeing the demihumans and mercenaries, having them conduct joint training exercises as well as start converting several buildings in the main town street into a barracks, before assisting Quantum in constructing a rude laboratory.

By crude, it was essentially renovating a pre-existing building and sanitising it as best as possible with the limited materials and chemicals available so that Sygil could conduct his experiments in producing a cure for his Holy injury, while Quantum could have a place to research and experiment with various chemicals and materials in producing different products of interest.

Maxmillian had taken the remaining townspeople and had them work on constructing a perimeter wall as a basic first line of defense. The wall only surrounded just outside the town itself, leaving the fields vulnerable.

The wall was simple, made from an amalgamation of sharpened wooden posts that extended over five metres, and stone and mortar which provided a more solid defensive foundation. Parapets were being added to the stone walls, with the added height advantage solidifying the defences and providing a greater range of vision.

A large wooden gate was constructed at the main entrance facing the fields, while a smaller door supported by a stone archway and wall was built at the back of the town facing the forest.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing to note about the wall was the sheer speed in which it had been constructed.

Sygil also wanted a large guard-tower to be constructed, but that would take more time and resources than he currently had the manpower to afford.

As such, that idea was on the back burner until the wall was finished.

Compliance amongst the demihumans had painstakingly improved, which was to say they were loyal to Sygil, but still maintained their past reservations. The townsfolk, however, were less enthusiastic about being conscripted into their new roles, but had little say in the matter. Maxmillian and Hans saw to that, and any discontent that threatened to escalate to dissent was harshly dealt with. After a couple weeks, the residents were quick to understand so long as they contributed to the work effort, life was otherwise normal. The new occupiers were not merciless slavers, and rest and reprieve was permitted. However, the hours were long and the labour hard. To further maximise their progress, shifts were rostered 24/7 to ensure there was always a group on duty.

* * *

Quantum was currently in his 'primitive' laboratory, using newly-created steel equipment to take specific measurements.

Quantum was creating more glassware to store future synthetic chemicals and compounds. Graduated funnels, flasks, beakers, test tubes and more.

The Grand Creator Sygil had also requested some glassware to compound some initial herbal remedies. Quantum, of course, complied with diligent fervour, ensuring they were produced as quickly as possible.

Once he finished his current task, Quantum intended to look at advancing alternative power sources, instead of solely relying on the newly crafted steam-powered engine.

While it helped with the automated smelting and other industrial processes, it was not the most efficacious nor preferable method.

No, he intended on upgrading to carbon fuel sources. Once he levelled up to Level 40, he would unlock the ability to begin research into basic fuel sources and the early stages of electricity.

It was slow and an annoyance, but his current levels severely were impeding his ability to upgrade and progress _everything_. That was the other thing.

His levelling was beginning to slow down as he advanced further in his abilities. He was currently relegated to base building, mining and simple manufacturing until sufficient levels were achieved. In order to start manufacturing an army as per his Lords request, he would need to reach Level 75 minimum. Level 90 he could produce an _efficient army_ and Level 100 he would be able to maximise its entire capabilities. That was not to say of the additional research points he needed to invest in to upgrade the army to the modern technological standards.

He could unlock gunpowder research and advancements at Level 35, and early muskets at level 40. From there, he would need to allocate mana and XP to upgrade the technological aspects of both advancements, which would divert time and resources from actual levelling. However, insufficient levelling also meant he would be unable to progress beyond a certain point with his research. It was a tight, vicious cycle. Therefore, he needed to analyse and micromanage every advancement to ensure the quickest and most efficacious route to technologically advancing towards a more modernised empire as per his Creators directives.

It would, unfortunately, take time. At the current rate of advancement with the current available resources and labour, it would take four years to fully upgrade everything to the maximum level possible.

That was simply unacceptable.

So, Quantum had taken the liberty of applying shortcut methods to speed the ranking up process. This included investing in creating summons which could help contribute mana and XP directly to him as they worked, gaining experience. Hence, the more summons directly created, the more xp and mana he could create.

Fortunately, the industrial processes themselves didn't require mana/xp, only the actual research advancements via the Levelling system.

It was essentially like being gifted a recipe. No-one knows how to bake the specific cake until the recipe is acquired, which happened once he reached a sufficient level.

Once that level is achieved, the recipe is directly handed to him, which he can share and mass produce for anyone of any level to use. Therefore, even a simple meatbag native to this world would have the recipe to bake the exact cake presented. The only limitations would be physical capacity and time. Oh, and of course the fact that the primitive meatbags wouldn't be able to fully understand the recipe itself. But that was inconsequential. These upgrades were intended only for Lord Sygil and his summons, unless he deemed otherwise.

Frankly, the whole system operated like a game. Though, Quantum would probably never know how close to the truth he was with that idle thought.

There was something curious about the whole process, however. Quantum already had the knowledge, right through to Level 100. The problem was he couldn't access it. It was like each level acted as a key to unlock a door to a new room filled with more information.

Quantum hypothesised that there could be a way to cheat the system and essentially 'pick' the locks, but there was also the possibility that without sufficient upgrades to his very being that came with each level, he could overload his motherboard with the excess of information unlocked.

Still, in order to pick said locks, he needed to have sufficient understanding of how they worked, which would likely only be unveiled through, again, _Levelling Up_ ….

_Such a pesky system._

A familiar ping let him know it had finally happened.

"Ah. Now at Level 35. Took long enough," droned the synthetic voice.

He dropped what he was doing, walking over to an opposite bench.

_The drones are doing their job in covering for other duties and helping me rank up. I just need to produce more of them and then I can expedite this whole process._

Sadly, he would have to wait until later before he could create more drones.

First thing was to use the recent collection of XP to unlock the next Advancement: Gunpowder.

It fascinated him how, after unlocking an advancement, a wealth of knowledge would come flowing through to him, barebones as it was.

The advancements were more of a stepping stone to enable him to understand basic concepts. It was ultimately up to him to delve deeper and further along a specific advancement branch to improve upon it.

Which he would do given time with this gunpowder.

Having the the materials present under Lord Sygil's recommendation was going to make his next task much easier. After all, all he needed to do was apply the new data unlocked.

With mechanical ease, he quickly organised the charcoal, the salt-peter, extracted from the residents waste (a crude process, but eventually they could upgrade to something less repulsive), and sulphur he had available. The sulphur had come from the mines when an accidental salt bed was found. It was discouragingly small, but it would be enough to give the necessary kick-start for the operation required until ore industrial means could be acquired.

The final ingredient was the potassium nitrate, which also came from near the salt bed that the sulphur was extracted from, with a small fissure in the earth providing some. Quantum had the workers expand on the fissure to find more natural minerals. There had been some small luck, but currently the quantities mined were insufficient for large-scale operations. In a couple weeks, they would be able to expand even more, though, so that was not _too_ much of an issue.

Once he had the glass jars containing each in their raw format laid out on the bench before him, all he needed to do was grind everything into a coarse powder; the finer, the better.

_There should be a mortar and pestle around here._

A quick scan revealed the items required.

He grabbed the sealed jar containing the charcoal, emptying as much of its contents as could possible fit into the mortar.

Setting the jar aside, he delicately clasped the pestle in his hand and poised it above the charcoal, ready to grind it into oblivion.

With gentle motions, he began grinding the charcoal.

As his automatic processes took over, he diverted more processing power to calculating the required masses for each ingredient, as well as how to prepare each individually before combining.

As he ran through the steps required, he suddenly discovered a setback to the process which would impede his progress– **_CRaCk_**

Quantum stopped his grinding motions, his optic sensors flickering to focus on the now shattered mortar.

_Observation: The inferior meatbag-made contraption is now broken._

A meatbag would have let out an uncharacteristic angry curse at such a predicament, but he instead diverted his focus onto cleaning up the mess now made.

It still didn't stop him from processing his disgruntlement as he multitasked.

_I need isopropyl alcohol to finish the reaction. I do not have isopropyl alcohol ready._

That was unfortunate.

 _Perhaps I shall substitute with ethanol_.

That would require the production of ethanol, however. He ran some quick diagnostics on how to easily synthesis ethanol, and based on the availability of certain natural ingredients, it was feasible to manufacture it.

As Quantum approached a shelf containing more jarred ingredients for him to select, the door to the laboratory suddenly opened, with Hans' visage becoming visible as he entered.

"Greetings Hans. What brings you to my laboratory," the deep drone of Quantum's vocoder coming off as somewhat demonic.

Hans looked around briefly, before redirecting his focus on to Quantum.

"I'm collecting progress reports on everything to present to Lord Sygil. What is the status of your duties?"

Quantum grabbed several jars, the faint mechanical whirring of his servomotors and the light clunking of his footsteps penetrating the silence before he spoke.

"I have upgraded to level 35, and am now conducting experiments on primitive gunpowder as per requested."

Hans nodded in satisfaction.

"Understood. And how are your drones faring?"

Quantum set the jars down, opening their contents.

"The drones are operating at peak efficiency, with the accumulated XP through their activities still being delivered to me. Levelling up is beginning to show signs of slowing down, which will impede future progress times. I will be creating more drones to expand and increase production acitivity and Levelling systems tomorrow."

Hans nodded.

"Excellent. Are there any other current setbacks?"

"Negative."

"Then I shall take my leave and report to Lord Sygil. Continue your duties."

Had any other organic said those exact same words, Quantum would have been tempted to form a lobotomy on them for their insolence. However, Hans, Maxmillian, and their glorious Creator Lord Sygil were exempt.

Quantum shared no further words as the door closed behind Hans, continuing his tasks.

As the meatbags would say, it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Quantum was not the only one enduring such thought processes. Sygil glared at the herbs and apothecary supplies organised before him on his own table.

Sunlight filtered in through open windows, illuminating the room that was stripped bare of any furniture save for a pair of adjacent benches that he was standing in between, and an array of shelves on each wall that were slowly starting to become filled with materials.

Several extinguished lanterns lay throughout the room for when night would arrive.

Sygil now had the initial supplies needed to, hypothetically, start producing a simple remedy or more for his Holy injury. However, his ignorance in Yggdrasil had led to him discarding the formulas as useless jibberish as many of the ingredients did not exist in the real world.

Now, he was faced with a new, more pressing dilemma.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?!_

He had a vague understanding of everything's value and use, but in terms of application, he was lost.

_Ugh. I wish I had some of those damn books here. They could really help me out…_

Alas, this was the hand he was dealt, so he no choice but to play along with it and make it as good as possible.

He glanced at his clenched, gloved hands, before relenting and rubbing a hand through his recently slicked back hair.

He had spent some time to properly clean himself up, washing the dried bits of blood and dirt form his clothes, as well as maintaining some basic hygiene. While he might be living in a medieval world, he was certainly not going to lower his standards. He was a ruler. A businessman, and a professional. As such, cosmetic visages were important to maintain.

Yggdrasil was a confusing experience, defying the fabric of reality in many ways.

However, since his arrival in the New World, he had learnt his abilities from Yggdrasil carried over, as well as his summons.

By that standard, perhaps there were certain skills or magic even that he could perform to help him make the remedies he needed, or better yet, actually cure his affliction?

It was a possibility, however, it was also a likely futile one.

While he had managed to 'Level Up' as Momonga had mentioned, he never really bothered to invest in any abilities or skills, diverting all of his time and efforts into researching a supposed dead-end.

Essentially, it meant while he was technically Level 85 or something by Yggdrasil standards, he was only a barebones player, having not invested anything. Essentially, a Level 85 player could technically easily trounce him in terms of Yggdrasil abilities. The only way he would prove victorious is through his original shadows and demonic attributes.

That was another potential thought to entertain, as well. If he had arrived, as well as Yggdrasil abilities, had anyone or anything else from Yggdrasil arrive also?

And if that was the case, would it pose a potential threat?

It was merely a thought, but considering the reality of his current predicament, it was not something he should be so eager to disregard.

He was broken from his musings by the sound of a door opening, followed by approaching footsteps that sharply stopped.

"Hans reporting, sir!"

Sygil tiredly glanced at the saluting NPC standing rigidly at attention.

"Yes, Hans?"

"I have gathered the latest updates on local developments, sir."

Sygil turned around fully to face him, leaning back on the bench.

"Well, tell me what you've got."

_I honestly can go for the break._

"Forty-Seven has finally unlocked Level 35, and is beginning experimentation on gunpowder. The mines are operating at peak capacity, but are set to continue expanding.

"He also mentioned that he will be creating more drones tomorrow to help the levelling up process, as well as to expand on production."

_Well, that actually is good news._

Sygil felt somewhat relieved that at least progress was being made on another front.

_Soon, we can have electricity, firearms and eventually automated defense systems. And to top it off, then I can have an army created soon._

"Unfortunately," continued Hans. "The levelling progression is slowing down. In order to continue our progression at at least an even, let alone exponential, rate, we will need to rapidly expand our base, manufacturing capacities and manpower."

"Of course. I intend that, Hans. What about the demihumans?"

"They are complying well sir, and given some proper food and time to train, their skills have been re-honed. They are training with the mercenaries to improve joint operations. Their have been some minor issues between the two, but they have been sorted out."

Sygil frowned. "I suppose you can't expect any bad blood to fully disappear."

He glanced up at his subordinate.

"It won't become a problem, will it?"

"No sir. While they express their differences, they are cooperating."

_That is good. Last thing I need is them killing each other right now._

"The main difficulties have come from some of the residents, sir."

Sygil shot an eyebrow up.

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Some are still upset at being forced into labour jobs, as well as the seizure of personal property and assets. While most have complied and realise their situation, some feel they are being treated… unfairly."

"Do you know who they are?"

"I am currently looking into it as we speak sir."

Sygil nodded slowly.

"Very well. Will _that_ become a potential problem in the foreseeable future?"

"If they inspire anyone to dissent, then there is potential sir. At this stage, it is merely the disgruntled musings of the few that are bitter."

Sygil stood straight and paced towards Hans.

"Root them out, and _educate_ them on the consequences of dissent. I will not be sabotaged by a few insolent, fat, men that are complaining about having to work."

Hans nodded firmly.

"Of course, sir!"

"Are there any other developments?"

"Yes sir. The demihuman army is just about equipped with the new weapons and armour. The final batch is being readied for distribution as we speak now, sir."

Sygil felt a satisfied smile work its way onto his feature.

"Excellent. Then we are nearly on track. How goes progress on the wall?"

"Slow, sir. The front and back walls and gates are complete, but we still need to strengthen the eastern wall."

"And how long will that take? I don't want us to be entirely vulnerable forever."

"It could still take another week to finish the wall sir."

_At least we have established a basic army._

"If I may sir, how are your experiments going sir?"

Instantly, Sygil felt his irritation began to bubble. Less so at Hans, and more at his ineptitude in actually creating the remedy he needed.

"Just dandy," he spat out, glaring at the ingredients strewn out on the bench.

"I have the starting point for my remedies, but I have no idea on how to go about using them, or what should be used with what to produce the remedies I need."

"Sir?" Hans' expression adopted a more concerned look.

 _Surely I misheard. Lord Sygil_ doesn't _know what to do with them….? Impossible._

There was no conceivable way that his illustrious creator –

"I said, I have no fucking idea."

Hans suddenly realised his mouth was slightly agape, and promptly closed it.

Sygil glanced at him slowly.

"Do you remember any specific recipes from Yggdrasil, by chance?"

Hans would later berate himself for his momentary surprise, but after a second to realise what Sygil had said, he was quick to jump in.

"Of course sir! Did you wish my assistance in creating some potions for Holy wounds?"

"That would help a significant amount," replied Sygil, slowly moving to the side to give Hans some room at the bench.

Hans took the cue and quickly strode forth, glancing at the ingredients, eyes darting around predatorily as he sized each item up.

"Ah. I believe this one needs to be ground first, and then dissolved in water before mixing it with the Alarosacea. Next, you heat it until it melts to a paste, before rehydrating with the extracted juice from the Jaklan Roots sir. Then, you have to, if I'm correct, infuse 45 mana from a Healer's Attribute into the solution. That should give you a small elixir that you can consume once, before having to remake it. Sir."

_Had I known the process was that complex to begin with, then I would have just killed myself to spare the agony of dealing with this horseshit._

"Okay, stop. What do you mean I have to _infuse_ mana?"

Hans looked at him quizzically.

"Sir, you need to use the mana to give the potion the necessary combative strength to successfully combat a Holy poison. Otherwise, the ingredients in this recipe will otherwise be useless."

_What. The. Fuck?! Why can't I just do some simple compounding like a god-damn normal person! Now I need to use Mana?!_

_"_ Perhaps there is an alternative recipe we can look at that doesn't require Mana?" he suggested.

Hans placed a forefinger and thumb under his chin, pondering any alternatives.

"Hmm. There are a couple recipes, but I don't believe we have all of the necessary ingredients, sir."

As much as Sygil would have loved to dispute it with Hans, if only to selfishly save any further effort and tie, he knew it was likely the truth.

While he managed to score a decent scoop from Reginold, he didn't acquire everything he needed to open up a large range of options to choose from.

He had to put his faith in Hans' opinion, even if it wasn't necessarily desireable.

"That's unfortunate. Would you be able to work with what we have?"

Hans looked surprised, but was quick to compose himself.

"I… could sir. Though, I cannot guarantee it would be the most effective product. After all, not all of the best ingredients are here sir."

Sygil could help but give a defeated sigh.

"I'm well aware. Never mind. I think I would much prefer some fresh air right now."

Sygil suddenly strode past Hans, who was quick to follow him dutifully.

"You mentioned that the wall is not yet fully completed on the eastern wall? Mind giving me a tour to see for myself? I haven't checked in a while."

"Of course sir."

* * *

Alizia felt more and more nervous with each passing day. There were no threats or attacks from anyone, both internal and external, since Sygil had taken control.

She watched as the wall was being constructed. It would be difficult for any invading force to enter now unless they had significant numbers. That, or they managed to sneak in through the back gate.

Therefore, she entrusted only the most loyal of her mercenaries to guard the rear gate, with explicit orders. She was confident they would fulfil their duties and do what was required of them. Of that, she was certain.

What she wasn't certain about was the overall strength of the demihumans that Sygil was now arming.

There was no denying their strength and skills were easily on par with her best mercenaries, probably even better. It was their ability to hold out against an opposing army. She questioned their resilience, having seen the complete fervor and dedication to training. Add to the fact that they had trained as warriors for most of their lives prior to their capture and enslavement, they were a formidable force to be reckoned with.

All she could do was hope.

* * *

Hope was the only thing the acting foreman for the construction of the wall could do when Hans and that monster approached him.

He quickly stepped past the pile of bricks, wooden planks and workers that were steadily working away. Wiping some of the sweat and dirt off of his forehead, he strode towards the approaching men.

"Greetings, sirs. What can I do fer ya?"

Perhaps his normally jovial tone was a tad too enthusiastic, but he would rather stay on Sygils good side and avoid being shredded to pieces by his pet demons. He was one of the first residents to wake up in the early morning hours to the sounds of screaming and beasts roaring.

The sight of so much blood from the mercenaries was branded into his memory.

Internally shuddering, he refocused his attention on the two men.

"We're here for an inspection on progress of the wall. How is the eastern wall coming along?" Hans called out, hands folded behind his back as Sygil glanced around slowly, chin held high.

"Ah. We're still working on strengthening the interior supports. We're about a week's off from finishing the whole thing."

He clasped his strong arms over his rotund belly, his beady eyes darting between the two. Years of construction of buildings had built his strength up, but right now, he didn't feel overly strong in the presence of this… this… this murderer.

Sygil stepped forth, looking up at the wall still underway.

"And it will hold against any attack? I'd hate for it to crumble when I most need it," commented Sygil dryly.

The foreman started fidgeting with his rustic beard.

"Well, so long as it's not an army arriving with catapaults, it ought to hold. Once it's completed of course. These exposed support beams, if they were to break, would cause a good section of this part of the wall to collapse. Once everything is put in place and we apply the mortar to hold it together, it will hold quite nicely." He was quick to reassure Sygil upon seeing is frown.

"Then we are on schedule," smiled Sygil in satisfaction.

"Would you mind walking me through the entire wall and informing me of what is done, and any further improvements planned," inquired Sygil gently. It was that very gentle tone that unnerved the foreman, but regardless, he was diligent to reply.

"Of course, right this way," he bowed his head before leading the two along the interior of the wall, pointing out areas that were completed but would need updating to eventually make more impervious.

Sygil understood the necessity for further improvements, but at this stage, a wall was a wall, and he could only afford so much currently. Once the wall was complete and he had more resources, which were steadily piling up, then he would look a further reinforcing the wall. Still, he let the foreman ramble on.

By now, they had wandered to the north gate, which was currently shut. Directly outside of the north gate lie miles of wheat and grain fields, their height and straw colour indicating that harvest was close.

The fields folded over a small hill before leading into flat ground. As such, there was no real visibility beyond the hill, therefore Sygil had patrols established to overwatch his property.

There were no parapets on his walls currently due to the initial shortage of available stone and mortar. As such, there were no guards on top of the wall, which was a shame, as it would have offered better protection.

_Oh well, soon I'll be able to, once they finish the wall._

Having a complete perimeter wall was more priority at the moment. Besides, he would soon have the people install guard towers to overlook the town and surrounding property.

_Soon, it will all come to fruition._

Progress might have been a bit slow, but there was no denying that there had been progress at all.

The foreman spoke up, breaking his internal monologuing.

"And here, all we've got to do once we finish and get more materials, is reinforce these wooden doors. Add the parapets now that we are getting a bit a stockpile forming, and it ought to be well enough to hold a siege."

Sygil nodded absent-mindly, opting to look at the stone wall frame encompassing the heavy wooden double-gate.

"How long will it take to build several sentry towers in the mean-time?"

"Oh, um…" stumbled the foreman, running a quick mental check.

"Well, with the labour you've given me, and the steady influx of building materials, I'd reckon about, er, a couple days fer one sentry tower. Unless you want a stone guard tower?" He trailed off cautiously.

Sygil waved his question away s he stepped back from the wall to get a better general look, the two following him out into the open.

"I'll have a guard tower installed as well, but until the parapets are done, I want several sentry towers constructed for archers."

The foreman nodded as Sygil addressed Hans.

"We already have several foot patrols around the base and fields, so we can get a head's up if we were to be attacked."

"Most definitely sir. With the joint training exercises conducted, their chances of surviving and holding their own are maximised."

Sygil let his lips faintly curl upwards.

"Then all it is is just a matter of waiting until – " "Lord Sygil!"

Everyone turned their heads collectively to witness Maxmillian approaching with a brisk pace.

"What is it Maxmillian?" Shot Sygil as Maxmillian approached closer. The uniformed NPC came to an abrupt halt in front of Sygil.

"Sir, there appears to be an issue of interest that has just cropped up."

Sygil felt his head tilt.

"Issue?"

"Sir, one of the earlier patrols on the northern fields have failed to change back in for an hour. I dispatched a second group to follow up, but they have failed to report back in."

Hans looked at him sharply "You think they were ambushed?"

"Possibly. However, it is just as likely that they have either slacked off or worse yet, gone AWOL."

Sygil groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Great. Hans."

"Yes sir?"

"Take a small group with you and go investigate what happened. Maxmillian, put everyone else on high alert."

Maxmillian nodded his head.

"Right away sir –" "What's that sound?"

Everyone glanced at the foreman, who was looking around strangely, a puzzled look plastered across his portly face.

"What sound?" questioned Sygil. But then, he heard it too.

It was like a faint whistling sound, though rapidly getting louder.

_What on earth….?_

However, he no longer needed to ponder the mystery when it revealed itself.

The arrows started to impact all around them, embedding in the dirt, in the houses, and anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path.

Fire and smoke billowed from their tips.

The foreman's look of absolute surprise died as quickly as him as a flaming arrow shot through the top of his skull, lodging itself out the back of his head.

He crumpled to the ground in a pathetic heap.

Sygil's eyes widened fro a brief second, before he reacted.

"Shit, we're under attack?!"

Himself and the two NPCs wasted no time in running back up against the wall in an attempt to take cover from the onslaught.

They practically threw themselves up against the safety of the wall as flaming arrows flew overhead, like a dark cloud of death.

The arrows didn't seem to stop, hundreds impacting on the ground. Sygil watched a small three-man patrol of mercenaries inside the base scramble to take cover against the same wall, with one being unfortunate as several arrows tore through his limbs and chest.

Sygil was surprised how loud the onslaught was as he glanced at his two subordinates.

"What the hell is going on?! Are we being attacked by bandits?!"

 _No way, there is way too man arrows!_ As he second-guessed himself, Maxmillian called out.

"If they are, then that has to be the equivalent size of an army!"

By now, screams could be heard inside the town as fires started to burn from the arrows.

Sygil glanced at the two mercenaries braced against the wall.

"What the hell is going on, who's attacking us?!"

One mercenary called out as his companion flinched at several close impacts..

"We don't know! We're just as confused as you!"

"Dammit!" Snarled Sygil, before shooting a look at Maxmillian.

"I think I know what happened to our patrol."

"How the hell didn't any of the other patrols not inform us though?! They couldn't have all been killed?" Shot Hans towards Maxmillian.

By now, the arrows had stopped, granting everyone a chance to regain their bearings. However, the temporary peace was short-lived, as the front gate double-doors suddenly exploded inwards, showering the surrounding area with wood splinters, rock and mortar as the stone archway began to crack.

Miraculously, it held despite the damage, but the doors were trashed, with one blown out in towards the base and the other swung inwards on its hinges.

Sygil glanced at his men cautiously, when suddenly he could hear it.

The growing thunder of hooves became more aggressive with each passing second.

Sygil carefully approached the destroyed gate, and leaned around the door to take a quick peek. The sight made his eyes widen open with shock.

* * *

**Recommended Song: Dies Irae – Giuseppe Verdi’s Requiem**

* * *

Over a thousand armoured men carrying swords at the ready riding warhorses were charging directly towards the front gate.

The fields were trampled under their cavalry charge, kicking up large swathes of dirt, with plumes of loose dirt rising high into the sky behind them.

He could make out several flag banners amidst their midst, many of which were the same. The armour reflected the same silver sheen off the sun, indicating a standard uniform of sorts.

Seeing enough, Sygil ducked his back in, shouting out to Hans and Maxmillian.

"We've got an incoming cavalry charge! Over a thousand men!"

Sygil stepped back, summoning his spiked chain, coiling it around a free hand with its menacing hand being swung experimentally.

Hans and Maxmillian produced their officer sabres.

"Hans! Get the rest of our forces out now! Coordinate the defences and plug the eastern wall up. We can't let them slip through!"

"On it sir!" With that, Hans took off.

"You two!" he bellowed out to the mercenaries huddled against the wall. They glanced at him, adrenaline pumping through them at anticipation of the fight.

"Get me archers in the buildings. Now! When they push through this gate, and they will, we'll be otherwise overrun. And someone get the workers to quickly throw together some barricades through the streets, working from the main mansion as our fallback point. Hurry!"

They nodded in affirmation, sprinting in separate directions to fulfil their duties.

"Maxmillian, torch the gate to slow them down. If there's too much fire, they won't be all able to push through, and those that do, we can pick off more easily." His chain glinted dangerously as it hung, promising death to its victims.

He barely registered Maxmillians affirmation as he cast spell unlike the standard Fireball.

"{Inferno}".

The archway suddenly erupted in a bright ball of fire, golden flames hungrily reaching out to the top of the archway and around to the surrounding wall, eager to consume anything that came in its path.

And not a moment too soon, as the first cavalry riders began to pour through, caught in the inferno as the horses suddenly screeched in pain, their flesh instantly boiling.

Outside the gateway, many other horses could be heard whinnying in panic as they abruptly stopped, their riders either starting to hold defensive positions.

About five riders and their armoured steeds managed to break through, only to be met by death.

Sygils spiked chain spun in an upwards arc through, tearing through the first mounts jaw, ripping through bone, steel and flesh with no sign of stopping. The spiked chain's momentum carried through, decapitating the horses head in a grisly fashion, before connecting with the riders throat and tearing his helmeted head off.

Blood, fire and gore exploded everywhere in an upwards arc as the burning steed crashed into the ground.

Meanwhile, Maxmillian swung his sabre with incredible strength, the thin blade defying expectation and cleanly severing through another horses neck and carrying through in bisecting its rider.

With a fanciful twirl to carry the momentum through, Maxmillian impaled his sabre into the midriff of another rider, who let out a pained gurgle.

Sygil swung his chain out at the legs of another charging horse, tearing them off, crashing the mount as it screeched in agony, and catapaulting its rider directly towards Sygil.

The armoured rider landed face down directly at his feet, and Sygil wasted no time in swinging his spiked chain into the helpless mans head, flattening and cracking the steel helmet and exploding blood and gristle everywhere onto the ground.

Maxmillian quickly dispatched the remaining rider.

The inferno at the gateway was a significant deterrent to the invading force as it temporarily halted them from entering through the front gate. However, Sygil could hear the thunder of hooves as the warhorses started to surround the walls.

In a few seconds, they would discover the weakness at the eastern wall.

"Shit. They're going to flank us. Go reinforce the eastern wall. I'll deal with any stragglers that try to push through here."

"As you command sir!"

Maxmillian raced off towards the eastern wall.

Mere seconds later, Trisha came running towards him with about ten demihumans equipped with bows, their quivers maxed with arrows.

Sygil skipped any formalities, barking out orders instead.

"I want archers in buildings throughout this street," he gestured to the main road leading from the destroyed gate through to the inn.

"Kill anyone that pushes through. Move quickly. This fire isn't going to stall them for long," he gestured to the front gate that was ablaze.

The archers nodded and scattered to the nearby buildings, practically kicking the front doors open and racing upstairs towards windows for a good vantage point.

"Trisha," he called out, the woman glancing at him.

"Where are the rest of our defenders?"

"Your Hans has taken fifteen warriors to the eastern wall, the rest are being mobilised to the mansion as a reserve for either the gate or the wall, whichever needs the reinforcements. Archers have been posted in nearby buildings to the eastern wall, with a couple more near the town centre as a fallback stage. The residents that are still alive have been called back to the mansion to construct barricades throughout the streets, or otherwise take up arms."

"And where are the fucking mercenaries?!"

"Right here boss!"

At that moment, about five mercenaries ran around a burning building to Sygil, melee weapons drawn.

They came to a halt in front of Sygil and Trisha.

"Good. Get ready for a breach at the front gate, and for some shit fighting."

The mercenaries glanced at each other uncertainly, but reluctantly took up positions near the street, forming a roadblock for any invaders.

Sygil tuned out the sound of hooves, war-cries, the crackle of fire and burning timber inside the town, and the screams permeating all around him, even behind - ?!

_Behind?_

Sygil whipped his head around to see behind. The sight that greeted him did little to reassure him.

At the far end of the street, slowly filtering from a side street that led to the back gate, armed men wearing suits of uniformed armour were rushing through, cutting down anyone in their way indiscriminately.

"We've been flanked already? But the eastern wall should still be held right now?"

Unless it wasn't the eastern wall they came through. That left only one remaining place. But that meant…

"Fuck," he snarled, catching Trisha's attention.

"They've broken through the back gate somehow. We need those reserves out fighting now!"

"I'll let them know!" Volunteered an older mercenary, his graying beard rustling as he spoke.

The archers didn't need to be told to fire, they did so automatically.

The rabble that broke through the south gate were slowly picked off, arrows protruding form their body fatally as they collapsed. However, they were too many, and began swarming the village.

Sygil and his troops wasted no time in engaging the enemy. Of course, Sygil wasn't going to play fair.

He shot his spiked chain out into a small cluster of the invaders, the wicked blades tearing through multiple suits of armour and bodies bloodily.

That was not all, with a flick of his free hand, he summoned his shadow hounds, which charged forth towards the invaders with hunger, tearing through the enemy ranks like a hot knife through butter.

Blood sprayed everywhere from their onslaught, and created a buffer space so they wouldn't be immediately overwhelmed.

It would only be temporary, however, since for every invader that died, two more would take his place.

Sygil grunted as he used his spiked chain like a whip, utilising its range.

"Tsk. There's way too many of them to be a simple band of raiders, and they're too coordinated."

One of the mercenaries called out to his left.

"I think they're the Army!"

Sygil briefly glanced at the man, whose was locked blades with an invader that managed to get past.

A quick flick of his sword opened up the locked weapons, exposing his opponent and allowing the mercenary to slash his guts out onto the street.

Bloody entrails fell to the ground as the mercenary continued.

"I said I think they're the Army. They have the banners of the Kingdom, as well as those of some noble they serve!"

Sygil felt his face contort.

"But why the hell would the Army come attack us like this? There's no incentive or reason for them to?"

The mercenary suddenly let out a scream as he was skewered by a knight from behind, riding a warhorse.

_The gate!_

Without even bothering to look, Sygil swung his spiked chain out in a wide arc behind him, spinning to increase the momentum, as well as see the gate.

The swing tore through three horses chests and bisected a rider atop a forth horse that was closer.

It was as he feared.

The inferno had died down somehow, and now the cavalry were starting to push through, their armoured mounts being pushed through the remaining fire.

_Shit…_

Things were not looking good now.

* * *

At that very moment, Maxmillian and Hans could agree as they mercilessly carved up swathes of soldiers trying to enter through the eastern wall.

Many of the workers present had been killed in the initial attack, with others succumbing to the invaders that infiltrated from behind.

Now, Maxmillian and Hans were equally concerned.

 _How did they get through?!_ Were their collective thoughts.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was they needed to be dealt with.

A Fireball cast by Hans incinerated the location the soldiers were pouring from between two buildings, killing over a dozen soldiers easily.

The remaining soldiers suddenly trembled in fear, and hesitated as they felt the effects of Maxmillians {Doctrine of Terror} cast upon them.

That was all the time needed for everyone to quickly readjust to the situation and begin attacking the invaders.

Alas, they numbered too few, and the invaders too many.

Hans called out to Maxmillian as he cut down soldiers charging through the hole in the eastern wall.

"We're getting swarmed by these pests! You need to increase your area of effect to try and slow down more of these fuckers."

Maxmillian had his back to Hans, disembowelling, bisecting and otherwise killing the terrified enemy soldiers.

"Understood. Cover me!" He called out to a few mercenaries, who looked at him uncertainly. The glare he sent them made them reconsider, and they quickly formed a meat shield around Maxmillian.

Maxmillian wasted no time spending the next fifteen seconds to prepare for a larger area of effect, as well as strengthening the spell.

{Doctrine of Terror} was not necessarily a fatal spell, rather it was a tactical one that complemented the rest of one's arsenal.

It instilled pure, unadulterated, fear into anyone caught within its range, making them lose the will to fight and retreat. And for those of incredibly weak constitution, it could even be sufficient to very-well induce either a seizure or myocardial infarction. Though, that was a near impossibility, even for low-ranked individuals.

Still, the tactical significance of such a skill was incredibly lucrative, as it would essentially halt an enemy army in their tracks if they weren't skilled high enough to be immune, or lacked sufficient magical protections.

It was almost coincidental that an enemy army happened to arrive, as if some bizarre twist of fate. Either way, Maxmillian wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The spell was ready, and he cast it.

The effects were instantaneous. Everyone in the nearby area extending up to the first set of buildings, as well as nearby outside the eastern wall, with the exception of Hans, succumbed to its effects.

The three mercenaries protecting Maxmillian fell to their knees, sheer terror sprawled across their face. They were too petrified to move. However, so were the invaders.

The demihumans fared slightly better, and had the common sense to capitalise on the stalled soldiers, though a quick glance of their features easily revealed their unease due to the skills effects.

It didn't take long for the soldiers to escape their terrified stupor and realise they were suddenly being slaughtered. The only logical choice, under heavy influence by the skill, was to retreat.

With self-preservation the only motive, the remaining dozen soldiers in the immediate area of the effect were quick to back away in terror, screaming fearfully.

It mattered little in the end, however, as Maxmillian and Hans were quick to dispatch them.

A scream from behind made them both turn their heads.

"Oh for fuck's sake," snarled Hans.

One of the mercenaries was holding his sword at the two NPCs, overrun by terror. But even more pathetic was the second mercenary repeatedly stabbing himself with his own sword, screaming frantically.

"I won't let you kill me, bastards!"

Maxmillian shook his head in contempt.

"Fucking weak, and useless, pathetic, snivelling filth."

He sighed as he addressed Hans.

"I'll deactivate the skill. Can't have the bodies killing themselves because they're that weak-willed."

At least the third mercenary had the good grace and mental constitution to _not_ piss himself or attempt to kill himself. It didn't mean that he was held in any higher regard, though.

"What do you expect? They're _primitive_ humans, not cultivated or properly conditioned for real warfare. Besides, they aren't entirely immune to such a skill of yours." Hans was also exasperated.

As soon as Maxmillian deactivated his skill, everyone felt the intense crushing fear wash away.

Maxmillian strode past a few dazed mercenaries and demihumans, growling out as he approached the eastern wall.

"Get up and fight, you pathetic maggots. If you can't handle a little pressure, then you shouldn't even be here."

One of the nearby mercenaries nodded all to eagerly.

"Amen to that," he muttered, and started to jog off back into the town, only to suddenly find Hans' sabre pressing against his throat.

"Desertion is not an option," he spat out.

"Are you kidding?! There's over a thousand soldiers invading us?!" Cried another mercenary.

At that moment, a fresh wave of soldiers charged to the eastern wall, with more starting to continue flanking from the back gate, the effects of Maxmillian's skill no longer felt.

"Which is precisely why every able-bodied warrior is needed to stand their ground and fight," hissed Hans.

"Nah, man. Fuck this, I ain't getting paid enough by you psychoes!"

Those were his last words as Hans slit his throat. Wide-eyed, the man gurgled out in shock and pain, but the blood clogged his vocal chords.

Hans let the dying mercenary fall to the ground.

Maxmillian shot out as he decapitated an enemy soldier that charged forth.

"If you all don't get your act together **right now** , then execution for this treason will be a fate that you will be begging for! Now fight!"

Everyone hardened their stance at his words, ready to repel the next wave with more vigour than before. Fear, after all, was an _excellent_ motivator, one that Maxmillian didn't shy away from.

* * *

Sygil didn't feel fear, currently. He hadn't in a long time. What he did feel, however, was anger.

Anger at the army of soldiers that were currently uprooting all of his progress and gains in mere minutes.

He whipped his spiked chain, ripping through several more soldiers, blowing limbs, gore and blood everywhere.

All around him, the town buildings were beginning to burn. Demihumans and mercenaries were locked in combat, their skill and resolve overpowering their enemies. Unfortunately, they lacked the numbers to sufficiently defend the town.

Sygil couldn't help but notice his workforce of villagers be slaughtered, and his army of mercenaries and demihumans slowly but surely dwindle down in numbers.

Even a skilled warrior could be overwhelmed, and the sheer number of invaders was staggering.

The dirt of the ground below was barely invisible, instead a large, blotchy puddle of blood as the bodies fell.

He snarled in rage, extending his free hand out in the direction of the nearest invaders.

"Hunt them down. Tear their flesh from their bones, rip their souls from their bodies, and leave no survivors."

The flame-like shadows spilled from his hands, shooting forth and rushing towards their prey.

Teeth formed, gnashing hungrily at the suddenly terrified invaders, but it was too late.

Bodies exploded blood and entrails as several shadow hounds materialised, snarling and roaring, eager to fulfill their masters bloody commands.

Sygil felt insane laughter creep up his throat. Despite this annoying setback, it was glorious! It had been a while since he had unleashed a bit in an _actual_ battle.

This was far from what he was capable, but he wanted these foolish invaders to suffer for their transgressions.

"Yessss… YESSSSS!" He purred greedily. "Kill them all!"

Some of the nearby mercenaries that were still alive glanced at him nervously.

The sounds of screams and flesh tearing mixed with the clashing of steel, orchestrating a symphony of death and violence that sounded beautiful to Sygil's ears.

_These bastards break into **MY** territory, and think that I will just roll over and die?! No, death is all that awaits._

He materialised his sabre and swung, cleaving a horse and its rider in two.

He could feel his blood-lust rising. He swung his sword in the direction of someone approaching, intent on killing the useless fucker.

"Boss! Wait, it's me!"

He stopped midswing at the woman's voice.

_Alizia?_

"Ah. Miss Grenevaulch. How lovely of you to join us."

The mercenary did her best to ignore the maniacal look plastered across her new employers face.

Behind her stood two more mercenaries carrying crossbows apiece.

"They've poured into the village. They're trying to divide us, but your subordinates are holding them off. We're slowly beginning to regain ground."

"Yessss," purred Sygil, glancing at her eerily.

"How curious that they managed to break into this village so quickly and easily? The eastern wall is the only one with a hole in it, and my subordinates are dealing with that easily enough. And I've been holding the front gate. So tell me, miss Grenevaulch. How exactly was it that they managed to bypass us?"

She repressed a shudder at his scarily calm but accusatory voice.

"They managed to overwhelm the rear gate. But, we're winning now," she informed, her two mercenaries firing of crossbolts into enemy soldiers.

A demihuman woman behind Sygil suddenly screamed in agony as she was mercilessly cut down by another soldier, spraying blood onto Sygil's back.

Sygil could care less, instead eyeing Alizia curiously.

"Indeed," he returned cryptically.

Before she could say anything else on the matter, Sygil turned on his heel, decapitating the same soldier effortlessly.

Alizia winced.

_Fucker's too creepy._

"Hold the line, and don't let anyone else pass through. My hounds will help assist."

It was directed at her, she knew. Before she could say anything else on the matter, Sygil casually strode off, following the wall towards the eastern construction site where his subordinates were.

 _At least the fighting is getting easier._ Which was true. The number of invaders was starting to dwindle to a more manageable level, and the sheer number of bodies piling the streets was making movement more difficult for everyone. It also made everyone more vulnerable to the defending archers. Easy pickings, in fact.

Alizia grit her teeth, before raising her own sword as a rallying cry.

"You heard him! Don't let up. Hold the line, and don't let any more of these cocksuckers through!"

With intensified vigour, the front gate would hold. For now.

* * *

The walls exploded, spraying mortar and stone everywhere. Dirt exploded from boulders glazed with oil and set ablaze, and nearby houses began to collapse under the new barrage.

Sygil felt himself running to avoid getting hit by the catapaulted rocks.

_Motherfuckers are persistent._

As Sygil ran, he finally saw Hans and Maxmillian, finishing off the remainder of the soldier nearby. Only a small handful of demihumans remained by their side, the rest of the defenders and workers lying strewn about covered in blood, buried amongst the sea of enemy bodies.

"Fuck," cursed Hans. "Take cover!"

In desperation to avoid being pasted, everybody ran to the nearest building to take shelter behind.

The flaming boulders crashed into the ground, some exploding upon impact, others rolling and trailing fire.

Bodies exploded in balls of grisly blood as they were ground to paste, and houses alongside the walls were decimated.

Sygil felt himself slide behind cover at the same building as his NPCs and surviving soldiers.

Rubble rained down upon them all, and suddenly, the whistle of another barrage of flaming arrows could be heard.

"For Christ's sake," groused Maxmillian.

"Can we go one minute without these pesky fuckers."

"They're too organised to be bandits," agreed Hans.

"That's because they're not," offered Sygil, glancing at the raining rubble from the corner of his eye.

"They're part of the Re-Estize Army, likely under the private employ of some noble."

"Then, pardon me sir, why the fuck are they attacking us?!" Hans was incredulous, and the remaining demihumans looked at them uncertainly, hoping that they would provide some sort of salvation.

"That," began Sygil, "I would like to know."

"Well, sir, we can't just sit around all day. We need to keep fighting," stated Hans.

"Agreed. We need to take out their archers and artillery, otherwise there will be nothing left of this town," added Maxmillian.

"I'm aware," growled Sygil, ignoring a ricocheting piece of rubble that shot off of his cheek.

"Unfortunately, we have hardly anybody left. There's only a handful of defenders at the front gate. And with the handful we have here, we're not able to withstand a full on second wave assault. Not unless we want to risk losing the entire town and everybody else."

The arrows and artillery stopped. The sound of resting rubble was quickly washed out by a revitalised war cry from a charging second wave.

Sygil peeked around the corner of the destroyed building.

The wall as entirely reduced to mere rubble. As the dust settled, Sygil could hear the rush of more soldiers.

"Fuck," spat Sygil.

The town was in ruins. The buildings mostly destroyed. Only the farthest buildings, including the mansion and laboratory were faring the best, with some small fires, but nothing of major concern.

"There's too many to deal with this second wave conventionally. By the time we kill the pricks, there'll be nothing left worth salvaging," he growled.

"I wish I had a fucking gun. It'd make dealing with these bastards a hell of a lot quicker and easier," spat Hans.

"I hear you," concurred Maxmillian.

 _Same_. Agreed Sygil.

_Wait…_

Sygil felt realisation dawn upon him.

_We do have guns! I'm a fucking idiot. This whole time we've had guns!_

It had been months since Sygil had summoned a gun because he had been trapped inside Yggdrasil. As such, his reliance on melee exponentially grew and he developed a new habit of relying purely on his swords without even thinking about his guns. And since he came to the new world, he hadn't even bothered since he was too powerful to need them anyways, so he had almost forgotten about them.

Since he was technically in the real world now, lord knew he had mountains of evidence to support that, he should be able to summon and use his guns again.

"Perhaps indeed," muttered Sygil, catching everyone's attention. Hans and Maxmillian were intrigued, whilst the demihumans were confused.

One woman spoke up.

"What do you want us to do now? There's too many to contend with, like they've said?"

Sygil ignored her.

_I just need to focus, and summon my gun._

He outstretched his right palm, and began to concentrate.

_Here's hoping._

To his absolute relief and joy, he materialised his lever action rifle without any issues whatsoever.

_No pain or drawbacks. Just like the real world indeed._

"What the hell, sir?!" Hans exclaimed.

Sygil smiled wryly, glancing at Hans.

"You have marksman attributes, correct?"

"Yes sir," nodded Hans.

"Good."

It was time to even the battlefield and get this show well and truly on the road.

"I trust you know how to use this then?"

Sygil presented the rifle to Hans, who accepted it with wide eyes.

"Of course sir!"

"Excellent. Get to a snipers position and start thinning their ranks. The rounds are quite explosive against non-Holy enemies, so you don't need to be overly precise."

"Will do, sir. Though, what about the ammo?"

Sygil waved him off quickly.

"It will self load. You only need to chamber a new round through the cycling. It's been otherwise imbued with certain… properties, to make it more useful."

Hans nodded, examining the rifle experimentally, before extending the lever to chamber the first round.

"It has an effect range of 450 metres, though you can hit something easily a mile away if you have exceptional aim."

Hans nodded firmly.

"Then let me take this gift of yours and bring death to these heathens that dare strike out at you."

Sygil couldn't help but smile cruelly.

"I expect nothing less. Maxmillian."

"Yes sir."

Sygil summoned a monstrous hand-gun, extending the handle in offering for his NPC to take.

".50 Action Express, Desert Eagle. Same deal as with the rifle. It will autoload each bullet into the magazine, just take care with your shots."

Maxmillian carefully grasped the handle, admiring the engravings along the slide.

"Your will shall be done," intoned Maxmillian coldly.

Sygil summoned his own Desert Eagle, almost feeling giddy at the sudden weight in his hand. The sun and fire gleamed off the gun.

Death would be all but guaranteed now.

"The rest of you," began Sygil. "Form up and be ready to deal with any invaders that try to flank the rear. Maxmillian. Reinforce the front gate. I'll thin the fools that push through the wall here. Now go. Go, and bring death to my enemies."

"With pleasure," sneered Maxmillian.

As everyone scrambled from behind the cover of the ruined building, what happened next could be described with only one word.

Chaos.

* * *

**Recommended Song: Hellsing Ultimate OST – Akahata to Kokka**

* * *

The report of Sygil's Desert Eagle rang loud and clear through the air, cutting deep into the heart of everyone nearby who panicked at the strange, loud noise.

The invaders didn't have time to ponder it, however, as it struck out again. And again. And again. And again….

Suddenly, the charging soldiers were watching their comrades explode blood everywhere.

Heads began to explode. Holes were blown through bodies, nearly cleaving them in two.

Limbs went flying, and the charging soldiers couldn't help but question what the hell was going on all of a sudden.

Sygil felt himself slowly walking towards the ruined walls, opening fire. He didn't even need to aim properly, just a general direction in font of him. The screams at the end of each shot let him know he hit someone.

With a flick of his hand, he summoned his hounds back.

Instinctively, he felt their presence return.

He didn't even need to see nor acknowledge them. Instead, he gave his command.

"Hunt them down, and kill them."

The shadows darted forward, charging straight into the front ranks of the enemy.

More screams accompanied them, and Sygil felt his eyes light up with sheer excitement as he kept shooting.

"Hahahaha! This is so much more fun than using melee all the time! You bastards will never learn. You can't defeat me?! YOU CAN'T!"

* * *

Hans climbed up the steps of the building, practically leaping over the holes in the floor. He climbed to the highest floor, being greeted by the open air and smoke from the missing roof.

The wall facing the fields where the invading force majority was lay destroyed, offering minimal cover. What it did offer, however, was the necessary elevation.

Crouching behind the jutting wood and stone that remained from the wall, he levelled his rifle into the enemy ranks nearest the crumbled wall, and aimed down the sights.

**CRACK**

The recoil was strong, but his super-tier strength due to his high levels meant the rifle barely budged at all.

He didn't even need a scope. For starters, the enemy was relatively close, well within 250 metres. Secondly, they were so numerous. Like mice under a haystack inside a barn. And third, his Sharpshooter skills, used initially for research in Yggdrasil, was literally _designed_ for a scenario such as this.

He watched as the round blew a hole through some unfortunate sap's throat, sending his head flying.

He cycled the lever, aimed again, and fired.

**CRACK**

Another soldier's head exploded, showering blood and gristle onto his nearby companions.

He cycled the lever again, and fired at another target. They too exploded from the unnatural rounds fired by the rifle.

Hans felt a small tug at the corner of his lips.

_This is more like it._

* * *

The use of firearms was already proving its value in turning the battle around. The defenders now had regained a ranged attack against the invaders, and coupled with its destructive firepower, nothing was capable of withstanding the brutal violence wrought upon them. Not even the alloyed armour worn by the soldiers was impervious. Instead, the steel splintered and ruptured from the bullets flying.

However, it still wasn't enough. Sygil could tell.

There were literally thousands of soldiers advancing, with hundreds on horseback, and the majority on foot.

As a result, Sygil was forced to take refuge behind a nearby building adjacent from the one he had gifted his guns from.

_Dammit. This will take too long. And if those archers and catapaults aren't dealt with, there will be literally nothing but rubble and corpses._

The guns were game-changers, definitely, but there were too many enemies to engage at once.

The sound of armour clinking behind him broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to face a platoon's worth of soldiers that somehow had slipped through from behind.

Sygil whirled around and aimed his gun at the first bastard within his sights, but then?

_What's that whirring sound?_

He quickly received his answer.

_Quantum?_

Casually approaching the group of soldiers from behind was Quantum.

Before anyone could react, the synthetic voice rang out across the streets.

"When I am working on creations for the glorious creator, I much prefer it when useless meatbags such as yourselves DO NOT impede it by for once showing accurate aim and blowing half of my laboratory into smithereens."

The soldiers found themselves wide-eyed as the approaching… thing… neared them.

"What the hell?!"

Quantum promptly ignored the terrified human.

"As such, I am left with no choice but to eradicate the stupid meatbags that dare trespass on my master's territory and wreak such havoc."

By now, Quantum was almost face to face with the nearest soldier, and wasted no time in engaging in bloody violence.

A mechanical hand shot out, wrapping itself around the helmeted face of the soldier, who let out a panicked scream.

The scream was cut off as Quantum tightened his grip, crushing the helmet and squeezing blood and brains outs.

Without any effort, quantum lifted the corpse up, and tossed it at a second soldier, before charging.

Suddenly realising they were under attack, the soldiers adopted more defensive stances and charged forth to do battle with the strange metallic demon.

Unfortunately, they forgot about Sygil standing behind them with a loaded gun, smiling at what essentially would be a slaughter before him.

 _To intervene, or not to intervene?_ Mused Sygil.

Quantum ripped the head off of a soldier, before bending another's sword and adding the hapless soul's neck to the same fate.

_Hmmm. Looks like he's handling it pretty well._

Quantum was a whirlwind of death. What he lacked in weapons, he made up in pure strength and technical skill. He parried sword strikes with his bare arms, before grappling with them to tear the sword out of their hands.

Since they were inferior fleshbags, however, that often resulted in Quantum simply tearing the whole hand or even arm with the sword.

The remaining soldiers must of realised they were facing a monster beyond their skill, because they suddenly backed up and prepared to flee in terror. Or rather, they would have had Sygil not intervened.

The gun trained on them, the motion having been repeated for decades. They were dead before they hit the ground, with bone, blood, flesh and steel blown everywhere.

Quantum watched impassively as his creator killed the remaining soldiers nearby.

"Your assistance is duly noted and appreciated master," intoned the automaton.

"Likewise," returned Sygil.

"What the hell was that about the laboratory," questioned Sygil after glancing around.

"It has taken some damage from the onslaught of flaming arrows and catapaulted boulders. It still is functional, but several structural supports are missing, as well as a decent section of the roof. Much of the apothecary materials has sustained damage when I checked. Fortunately, the more volatile chemicals and gunpowder being manufactured on the lower floors is safe."

"Gunpowder?"

"Yes."

"Is it ready to be deployed?" Shot Sygil rapid-fire.

"Unfortunately, we lack any devices to propel a projectile akin to a gun."

Sygil shook his head.

"No, I'm aware of that. No, can we use what you have manufactured as bombs?"

"I can load the powder into flasks or other containers. However, it is not fully dried, and will require manual detonation since there are no primers ready."

Sygil thumbed his chin for a second, ignoring the screams around him.

"Can a projectile ignite it?"

"Theoretically. Though I would recommend it be explosive itself to maximise the chances of successful ignition. However, using a flaming arrow to ignite it will be quite difficult."

"I don't intend to," smiled Sygil slyly.

"Go take several of the demihumans from the southern gate with you and get those explosives ready. I want them yesterday. When they're done, we're going to toss them into the enemy ranks. Hans will shoot them, and we'll blow these sons of bitches sky high. Now move it!"

"Right away."

* * *

Maxmillian felt the crispness of the trigger as he squeezed it. He could feel the recoil try, and fail, to overpower his strength. And most thrilling of all, he watched as the round tore right through the next poor bastard, spraying blood, gore and hair everywhere.

The invading soldiers were starting to become more wary as they found themselves being picked off from afar.

He charged a fireball and sent it flying into their ranks.

"This is too easy."

"Maxmillian."

He turned to address Sygil, who was approaching.

"I've got Quantum setting up several bombs to help thin their ranks, however, we need to route them so they don't escape, _and_ so we can maximise the killing field."

"Affirmative sir. What do you command me to do?"

"Take several of the troops with you," he gestured to the demihumans and remaining mercenaries, all of whom were suffering from fatigue and various wounds.

"Flank them along the forest, and destroy their catapaults on the other side of that hill. Keep them from escaping. Once they're trapped, we'll burn them alive."

"Excellent idea sir. You heard him, get you weapons ready and move out! We're going to take the fight directly to the enemy!"

Maxmillian turned to leave, but Sygil suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder.

"And Maxmillian."

The NPC eyed him fro the corner of his eye.

"If you run into any commanding officers of theirs, keep them alive. I need answers as to why the hell they attacked us."

"Affirmative sir."

"Good, I'm counting on you."

Before Maxmillian could praise his glorious creator, Sygil bellowed out to the remaining handful fo troops that would be staying behind.

"Alright, the rest of you, fall back to Hans' position. I'll scorch the earth to funnel them only towards our front. That way we can pick them off. Alizia."

"Yes boss?"

"Take two men with you and head back to the laboratory and assist him where needed. When you're done, bring the explosives back to my position. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," nodded the woman in determination.

"Good. Now let's give these bastards hell. Go!"

There was a flurry of motion as everyone scrambled to their positions. Four demihumans accompanied Maxmillian as he cut through the rubble directly to the forest edge to flank the enemy front, whilst everyone ran to their right to the new town front.

Sygil turned to the exposed flank they would be abandoning.

"Let's see how effective Yggdrasil spells are then, shall we?"

Raising a free hand, he aimed at the exposed flank and streets, and cast a simple spell.

"[Maximise Fireball]".

Fire roared from his hand, igniting wherever he aimed. Fire erupted from the ground, leaving a burning inferno. Sygil glided his hand in the direction he wanted the in front to extend, creating a wall of pure flame that continued to burn after he was finished.

_Now. We just need to keep them at bay until Maxmillian is in position._

A whistle in the air forced him to look up.

_Shit._

Another volley of flaming arrows had been unleashed. Shaking his head in frustration, he ran along the burning buildings that were crumbling to meet with what remained of his forces. Which was to say, not very much.

Bodies and rubble pooled everywhere, some his own forces and workers, most the enemy invaders.

Arrows thudded all around him as he ran.

_You better hurry up Maxmillian, or I'll have nothing left._

* * *

Maxmillian felt himself snarl in annoyance as the demihumans trailed after him in the forest.

"Hurry it up. We don't have time to dawdle because you're too slow."

One of the demihumans muttered her displeasure.

"Fucking humans."

Normally, he would have struck the bitch down for her insolence, but he needed the bodies, and they were all on a time constraint.

"Save your griping for later. We have a mission at hand. Now shutup and follow your damn orders."

"Of course," gritted the demihuman.

The edge of the forest grew nearer. To their right, they could begin to make out rows of archers and catapaults resting near the hill, unawares of their approach.

As they ran over brush and logs, stones and dirt, Maxmillian could hear a voice call out for the archers to ready another volley of arrows.

"Ready volley."

The edge was near now. Only a few more steps.

"Aim!"

Crashing through the forest flanking the archers, he could hear the creak and stretch of wood as the archers raised their arrows high.

They weren't aware of him.

"[Inferno] Maximum range!"

His scream was the only warning the archers had, with the officer on horseback glancing sharply in his direction.

The erupting firestorm ripping its way through the ground and air along their flank was the only thing they saw as the ground erupted.

The screams were washed out by the roar of the flames. The tidal wave of fire tore through everyone in its path, incinerating most of the archers.

Arrows were let loose with awkward aim, but most were consumed in the fire.

Behind Maxmillian, the accompanying warriors burst through the foliage, swords drawn.

In front of them, the remaining soldiers and cavalry were suddenly thrown into disarray from the attack.

"Welcome to hell," spat Maxmillian, drawing his gun in one hand, and igniting a flame in the other.

"Find the commanding officers. Kill the rest," commanded Maxmillian.

"On it," nodded the demihumans.

And then, they attacked.

* * *

Quantum had bottled most of the powder into the flasks. Glass flask with cork lids, ceramic containers, wooden containers, it mattered not.

There wasn't an exceptionally large amount of the powder created, but there was enough to easily thin the enemy numbers by a couple hundred. Or blow a building or two up.

"Meatbags," he gestured to the three mercenaries accompanying him.

"Take these," he handed the containers around, "to Lord Sygil. Do not drop them or let them come into contact with any ignition source."

"U-uh. What will happen?" One mercenary questioned nervously.

"You will explode you organic entrails everywhere. If you by some chance survive the initial blast, you will likely be crippled for the rest of your organic life."

"Fucking great," groused the other mercenary.

"So, what exactly do these do?" Alizia tapped a vial curiously whilst her two subordinates piled as many into their arms as they could.

Quantum continued pouring the remnants of the powder into the remaining glass beakers, flasks and other devices.

"When the powder is ignited, it will combust, generating energy. If enough powder is ignited, the energy released can be explosive, thus creating a small bomb. Take these, and don't die."

The way Quantum spoke wasn't assuring her that he was exactly caring for her well-being because he valued her life. No, Quantum only wanted her alive so long as she could sufficiently serve Sygil.

Glancing around, she could see some fire arrows stuck in the floor boards, their gentle flames failing to fully ignite the rest of the wood yet.

She glanced back at the bench where Quantum was working, the powder spread across the bench.

_Explosive huh?_

By now, it was just her and the automaton alone in the room, with Quantum's back to her.

* * *

Sygil bit back a curse as he fired his gun relentlessly. His hounds continued to tear through the soldiers, but there were literally thousands remaining. Thousands had died by this stage, but it didn't seem to deter the persistent vermin.

Rifle cracks rang through the air as Hans shot from his perch. The remaining demihumans had taken up bows and arrows to keep pushing through and utilising their ranged advantage.

Most of the enemy soldiers had taken cover underneath the corpses of horses and fellow soldiers alike. Some had scrounged up bows to fire back, to no avail, whilst others tried to weather the storm, also to no avail.

Sygil's handgun blew the corpses apart, still managing to penetrate through to some cowering soldiers. Hans' rifle, however, killed the soldiers with pinpoint accuracy.

_Hell, he's an even better shot than I am._

Sygil would give Hans that.

His hounds were working through their ranks, also killing them.

He could simply just wait the battle out, but that would take too long. That's why he wanted the explosives to be used now.

Behind the hill before him, he watched a sudden fireball erupt from the ground.

He couldn't really hear any screams, but he was certain they would be present.

_At least I have some subordinates that I can rely on._

That only served to inflame his irritation.

_Where the hell are my explosives?_

As if to answer his question, approaching footsteps from behind alerted him to the two mercenaries he had sent with Alizia.

"Oi boss! We got the shit you wanted!"

Sygil spared a glance at them, observing they were carrying armfuls of vials and containers, each packed with the volatile gunpowder.

"About fucking time," he muttered.

"Hans!"

"Yes-sir?" Hans bellowed down from his sniper roost.

"We have the treats for our little mongrel friends. Can you hit them?"

A rifle crack rang out, and Sygil could hear the scream from afar as the bullet impacted.

The sound of the lever being cycled rang out as Hans retorted.

"Absolutely. You point the target, I'll shoot it."

"Good. We'll be tossing vials containing gunpowder into their ranks. Shoot them, and they should explode. Make sure you take as many of them with each shot!"

Sygil could feel his glee dripping through each word. Nothing but death would await the rest of these ignorant fools.

Maxmillian was currently routing the rear of the enemy forces, keeping them from retreating. Now, all he needed to do was barrage them with explosives, and then push them. It would be a simple mop and sweep operation.

"Trisha!"

The demihuman and her remaining compatriots glanced at from their cover.

"Take those vials and toss them as far into the enemy ranks as you can. Do it one at a time. Hans will shoot them. Make sure you toss them deep into their lines. I want to take as many of them out as possible, and not us!"

Trisha wordlessly nodded, as did the remaining defenders.

"Good. Hand them out," he gestured to the two mercenaries.

Another ball of fire erupted in the distance where Maxmillian was. The enemy forces were trapped now.

As soon as the vials were distributed amongst the front line of defenders, Hans readied his rifle.

"Ready when you are!"

Sygil nodded, addressing the demihumans.

"Toss the first one!"

At his command, the first make-shift bomb was thrown far overhead, deep into the front lines of the enemy ranks.

It barely made contact with the ground when Hans fired.

The gunshot crack was crisp and loud, whereas the sudden explosion of the bomb was noisy and messy sounding, like muffled thunder inside a small tin shed.

Regardless of what it sounded like, the result was exactly as predicted.

The round ignited the gunpowder, combusting it and releasing its energy.

The explosion wasn't overly large, but it was sufficient to eviscerate at least ten enemy soldiers.

Many of the nearby soldiers died, but many others suddenly found themselves gored and dismembered by the detonation.

Painful screams rang out.

"Again!" Bellowed Sygil, firing his gun.

The crack of Hans' rifle hit the second bomb with deadly precision.

More screams blended in with the second explosion, but no-one cared.

The bombs were tossed slowly, deep into the enemy ranks. Every time without fail that Hans fired, a bomb would successfully detonate, killing soldiers and maiming more.

Sygil kept shooting, keeping the helpless soldiers pinned down, whilst Hans and the demihumans bombed them into submission. Meanwhile, Sygil's hounds kept racing everywhere, shredding soldiers left right and centre. Add to the fray Maxmillian's offensive desecrating the enemy's rear and preventing retreat, the invaders found themselves well and truly in despair.

Desperate cries and screams of agony permeated the air, drowned out by the crackle of fires, the thunder of explosions, and the roar of the Shadow Hounds.

Nothing was going to survive in the next few minutes.

 _I'll make sure of it_.

**_KRA-KOOM!_ **

Sygil spun his head so fast it almost tore off.

The explosion resounded in the air, much louder and sharper than any of the ones currently going off.

_Where and what the fuck was that?!_

It didn't take long to find the source of the unwelcome disturbance.

_Is that my laboratory?_

It was. Or at least, that's what he could deduce it was, considering the substantial smoke, fire and actual _lack_ of a discernible building.

The reconverted laboratory was now reduced to mere rubble, with busted wooden struts, chunks of brick wall and cracked mortar, billowing smoke and fire.

_My laboratory?!_

It suddenly dawned on him what he just lost.

_My fucking remedies!_

He could feel his rage threaten to erupt, like magma from a volcano.

_All that hard work over three weeks. Gone in three fucking seconds._

When he found out who caused this raid and resultant damage, he was going to kill them slowly.

An infuriated hiss escaped his lips.

Now was not the time to dwindle on such thoughts. He had a battle to win. A battle for all intents and purposes, he had won.

Hans' voice disrupted his sinister thoughts.

"Sir, we're out of bombs!"

"Then prepare a charge. We're going to push the bastards. They're trapped and demoralised. Hans! You continue to provide ranged fire and pick off anyone you can. The rest of you, gather your melee weapons and prepare to push. Unless they're an officer of some sort, I don't want a single survivor. Slaughter them to the last man. Any that surrender, you butcher them where they stand. Understood!"

Hans called out an affirmative 'sir', whilst Trisha and the rest nodded, drawing their swords and, for those that had them, shields.

"Then hunt them down!"

The small group of warriors and mercenaries charged into the foray.

Sygil followed slowly, clenching his handgun until he was almost certain it would snap.

"When I find the fucker responsible, they're going to wish they were already dead."

His snarl was animalistic, with a fury to match.

He stalked up the hill slowly, with the fields of wheat and grain trampled, replaced with fields of blood and corpses. So much blood….

Many of the corpses were indistinguishable, just streaks of gore and bloody chunks scattered everywhere. The handiwork of his hounds and the explosives no doubt.

Hooves, legs, shredded armour, bent swords, and chunks of flesh, soaking in puddles of blood that easily submerged his whole foot if he stepped in them.

Smoke blotted most of the sky, whilst the scent of burnt flesh and blood almost gagged anybody left.

Gunshots, screams, and the slicing and dicing of flesh could still be heard.

As he reached the summit of the hill, the only sight awaiting him was more carnage. There was less blood for sure, instead the corpses were mostly charred remains.

Wooden struts from what were likely the catapaults lay charred at the back, whilst the reaming couple hundred enemy soldiers were quickly being reduced in numbers.

The demihumans had proven their worth in combat, but it was no secret most of the killing was by his NPCs and hounds.

Yggdrasil fire spells, firearms, and vicious shadow hounds were a potent combination, with the bloody results left in their wake a memorandum to their credible achievements.

Mos of the remaining invaders weren't even interested in fighting anymore, too desperate to leave, but they weren't being given a choice.

He didn't even need to intervene, his hounds and forces were doing a fine enough job.

A gurgle near his left foot captured his attention.

An enemy soldier lay dying, facing the sky, covered in blood, and maimed.

Another wet gurgle erupted from his bloodied throat, eyes fogging up and looking distant.

He must have seen Sygil, as he let out a desperate whine.

"Please… help… me."

Sygil felt a contemptuous sneer build up on his face.

He could feel his composure ready to snap, his anger boiling over.

"You… beg? After all of this, you have the gall to beg me for mercy?"

Remarkably, his voice didn't raise in volume nor tone, but the cold fury seeping through was unmistakable.

Without caring, he placed his left foot on the helpless man's throat, slowly applying pressure.

He watched as his voice failed, his eyes bugging out in fear and desperation.

"You have no _right_ to beg for mercy. You have no right to anything, actually. That includes a merciful death."

He watched as the life started to ebb away from the man, but still, it was taking too long.

It wold have been cruel to let the dying soldier suffer any longer, but Sygil didn't care.

The insufferable bastard played a role in this siege, so he was going to get his comeuppance.

A panicked wet gurgle finally managed to slip through, but by that point, the pressure was too great on the man's throat.

Applying much more strength than need, Sygil stepped down with full force, a scowl etched across his face.

A sickening snap and squelch could be heard, but it mattered not.

Sygil stepped off the corpse, his foot drenched in blood.

The smoke offered enough reprieve form the sunlight that much of the ground was covered in light shadows. Nothing significant, but enough where Sygil felt he could easily teleport much closer to his subordinates.

So that was exactly what he did.

He teleported directly next to Maxmillian, right as he executed a fleeing soldier.

"Any sign of the leaders?"

Maxmillian spun around in surprise, but relaxed once he realised it was Sygil.

"Negative sir."

"Then start searching." His irritation must have come through as Maxmillian stiffened uncomfortably at the order.

"Right away sir!"

He scurried off, ordering several demihumans to accompany him. That left Trisha and a few other demihumans, as well as three mercenaries, to help his hounds mop up the rest.

He promptly ignored the sounds of the slaughter, the screams, cries, and roars alike.

_Armies just don't come out of nowhere. They're usually sent by someone. But who sent them?_

A whinny from a horse up ahead, hidden behind the smouldering catapaults captured his attention.

Glancing directly in front, he watched as three horses, carrying colourful armoured riders, started to gallop away into the open field.

_Hmm. Now we can't have that, can we._

A thud on his right made him shoot his eyes in the noises direction, only to catch the tail-ends of a whimper as terrified solider covered in blood fell on his rear, with one of his hounds roaring in it's face, ready to shred him apart.

Before the hound could do so, though, Sygil clicked his fingers.

"Stop." He commanded, and the hound obeyed, choosing to growl.

"Good boy," he cooed.

The soldier, who was bracing himself for imminent death, opened his terror-stricken eyes and glanced at Sygil.

"Wha-what the hell are you?!"

Sygil knelt down, placing a firm hand on the petrified soldier's shoulder.

"Now that's rude," chided Sygil.

"But I'll forgive you if you can answer something for me."

"A-a-anything1 Just please let me live!"

 _So desperate._ He almost snorted.

He hoisted the scrawny soldier up by the scruff of his neck, the weight his body and armour nothing when compared to his strength.

He spun the fool around to face the fleeing trio of horses.

"Who's that by chance?"

"Th-that's our boss! B-Baron Joyce! He's the one who sent us. I'm just a conscripted soldier! Please!"

"Really? He's the one responsible?"

"Y-yes!" Stammered the soldier, while Sygil sported a fascinated grin.

"Well, I can't let him leave without sending him my regards, now can I."

"Please! I have a family. I don't want to die! I'll do anything you ask, just don't kill me!" The man was all but screaming.

Sygil dropped him like he was something filthy, striding past without even giving a second glance.

"Good boy," he called to his hound. "Thank you for being patient for your master. You can go back to your meal now."

"Wh-wha?! Pleas- ARHGH!"

The sound of flesh being devoured and armour torn asunder echoed behind Sygil as he strode more into the open.

_Now. Where do you think you're going?_

Sygil watched as the three horses kept galloping. They weren't too far out of range yet, probably 300 hundred metres by now.

He levelled his handgun, sighting the middle rider, who was dressed the most elaborately.

"Now hold your horses," he joked, chuckling at his own pun.

The gunshot rang true and loud, and nought but a second later, a distant scream could be heard with the middle horse tumbling and rider falling off unceremoniously. The other two horses slowed down and began to backtrack to their fallen comrade.

Meanwhile, Sygil began to briskly walk over. There was no rush after all.

One of the riders began to help the other fallen rider up onto the second horse.

"Oh no you don't."

He aimed his Desert Eagle, and let loose another round, tearing straight through the horse which let out a strangled cry on pain, knocking over the first rider, and throwing the second off.

The third rider pulled a bow out and aimed at Sygil, but a quick aim at his head, and the prick suddenly was short of it.

The head exploded, showering blood and steel on top of the other riders. The horse, startled, darted off in a random direction, leaving the two original riders laying on the ground, desperately trying to stand up.

The pained cries of the two horses grew louder and louder as he approached.

By the time he got close enough, he could make out the two riders more clearly.

One was obviously the head commander, judging by the highly decorated suit of armour, complete with feathers and cape. The other rider was probably a body guard, dressed in much more elaborate armour than his slain counterparts, but not as impressive as the first rider.

They both drew their swords as he approached.

"Back the hell away right now!" Screamed the ornate first rider, who, upon closer examination, was much more portly than the other, suggesting he was not a regular warrior.

"You shouldn't leave animals to suffer," intoned Sygil dryly.

_Goddamit I missed the fat fuck and hit the horse._

He internally berated himself for his sloppy aim.

"Shutup! Shutup! Shut the fuck up! Who the fuck are you!"

"I believe I should be asking you?"

"I'm Baron Joyce. A noble! You have no right to approach me and threaten me like this! I'll have you strung and skinned you savage!"

"Oh? You and what army? The one that's now dead?"

"Witchcraft," snarled the Baron.

Sygil responded by aiming his gun at the second riders face and pulling the trigger before he could react.

The Baron ducked down as brain and bone flew everywhere.

The corpse hit the ground, while the horses still screamed in pain.

"Oh, will you shutup!" Spat Sygil, aiming his handgun at the first horses head and shooting it. The second horse continued to scream until Sygil shot its head also.

They were put out of their misery, and now Sygil could hear his own thoughts properly.

"You're a coward! Where's the honour of using a sword! Answer me you bastard!"

Sygil rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh don't patronise me. You ambushed me. There was no honourable fight there."

"Then let's correct that. I challenge you to a duel. If you win, I'll forget your transgressions against me!"

Sygil couldn't help but widen his eyes as laughter threatened to erupt.

"A duel? Ha. HAHAHA!"

At Baron had his sword aimed at Sygil, staring intently at him.

Before the Baron could react, Sygil aimed his gun at the man's large right knee, and fired.

Joyce let out an agonised scram as muscle sinew and tissue erupted, his patella shattering, and his calf flew off behind him, leaving him to crash face-first into the ground.

"Haha. No. Fuck you, and fuck your honour," spat Sygil with a cruel smirk. That smirk quickly morphed into a sneer as Sygil approached the wounded man.

Sygil reached down and grabbed the man by his bushy beard, before roughly hoisting him up, ignoring his pained screams.

"You come onto my territory and wage war with me. You slaughter my workers, destroy my base, and kill my soldiers. And then, you have the audacity to demand an honourable duel?"

Sygil aimed his gun at the baron's remaining knee, and pulled the trigger.

Baron Joyce howled out in pain as his other leg was nearly blown off, holding on by a few meaty strands.

"That's what I think of your honour. Now, you can compensate me for all your trouble by answering a few questions of mine."

The man was starting to cry, tears leaking down his cheeks as he was lost in his own world of pain.

"Why did you attack me."

"F-fuck! Fuck you!"

Sygil felt his sneer deepen, so he dropped the man on his back onto the ground, before aiming at his crotch.

Joyce seemed to realise at the last second what was happening, but it was too late.

"N-no. Wait –ARGH!"

His scream was almost louder than the gunshot itself.

"Wrong answer," snarled Sygil.

"That's one testicle gone. Do you want me to do the other? Cos I can do this all day, it matters not to me."

The man continued to scream, however.

Sygil rolled his eyes.

"Like I said, that's not the answer I want. Guess you don't want the other one." He aimed at the mans crotch again, but this time the man had the sense to exit his own painful world and answer in a more timely and appropriate manner.

"C-C-Clair!" The words bubbled out wetly, as blood and saliva leaked from his mouth.

"Clair?" Repeated Sygil indifferently.

"C-Clair!" He repeated.

"Sh-she, a-and her husband… Beovhan… th-they sent for us."

Sygil loomed over the man, an ominous look across his face.

"You better elaborate real fucking quick, otherwise I'm going to rearrange your genitals into a cunt."

The man panicked, whimpering out in agony, each word a painful struggle.

"W-we received a letter fr-from Reginold. It was from Clair and Beovhan. I-t said they had been overrun, tortured and stolen from!"

Sygil waved the gun, not caring for the man's suffering.

"Go on."

"C-count Iselk, and Viscount Vraun Schlauss agreed with sending an army. W-we liberate Merigold, and at the same time, Clair and Beovhan 'die' in the raid, r-removing any competition."

"Well, what do you know. You learn something new everyday." Sygil almost sounded incredulous.

"P-please," the Baron.

Sygil stood up straight, a snarl plastered across his face as he aimed the hand-gun at the Baron's head.

"You disgusting piece of shit. You really fucked everything up for me. You and your noble friends."

"W-wait! Please!"

Those were the Baron's last words as he pulled the trigger, snapping the Baron's head into the dirt below him, spraying brain matter and blood in a long, bloody strak below him.

"Soooo. Clair, huh. I should have known."

Sygil clenched his gun in absolute fury.

_You fucked up big time you little bitch._

* * *

When Sygil got back to the hill where Maxmillian and the other demihumans and mercenaries were, the remaining invaders had all been slaughtered, with only a handful of officers captured.

Maxmillian saw him approach, and quickly ran over to greet him.

"Sir. We've finished routing the enemy forces. No-one managed to escape. We have six officers captured for interrogation, as you ordered sir. The rest, unfortunately, died in the earlier attacks."

Sygil stopped, his eyes hardened.

"Maxmillian," he began slowly.

"Yes sir?"

"I want a damage report by the time I arrive. Gather everyone that is alive. I want everyone at the front of the mansion when I get back. Including Clair and Beovhan."

"Right away sir. And, the new prisoners?"

"Bring them as well. The more for the show, the merrier," chuckled Sygil darkly, his cryptic words making Maxmillian tilt his head. Regardless, he complied.

As he left, shouting orders to the remaining survivors, Sygil surveyed the smouldering ruins of his base sourly. A scowl washed across his face as he thought darkly.

_You fucked up big time Clair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I love action scenes, espeically in film and shows, but man, writing them sucks. It's very difficult to write a fight before it becomes lost in a boring jumble of words that feel stretched out. I tried to keep it interesting, and focus on pushing the plot rather than regurgitating 'flashy' moves that become lost in the web of words.
> 
> Speaking of fight scenes, Yggdrasil spells are not my forte, and I kinda struggle. With Hans and Maxmillian, I took inspiration from the perks used in the RTS Company of Heroes, seeing as they are bth more akin to officer NPCs. They are leaders, less so fighters, so I figured their attributes should be more tactical than straight out flashy. I'll explore more as the story progresses, but feel free to list some potential spells and abilities for me to use as it is a little dilemma I am facing with this story. I'll credit if I do.
> 
> Now, I've noticed several people asking the question, when will Sygil get use his guns, if at all? Well, here they are, and yes, gunboat negotiations will become a thing. Sygil's a demon. He gets what he wants, no matter what.
> 
> Next chapter's gonna be messy. I'll see you around next week on January 22nd, this time without delays. Peace.


	14. Rise of the Poenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me preface this with a quick apology.
> 
> First and foremost, I apologise for the shorter chapter length, but I have been feeling really unwell these last few days, which has made writing a bitch. I struggled to write this bit. I’m still feeling a little under the weather atm, so the next chapter update will be pushed back a week sadly (to 5th February 2021). Sorry.
> 
> In regards to future updates after 5th February, sadly Uni is coming back, and between that, renovations and other commitments, my time available to write will be going downhill, meaning updates will become slower :/
> 
> I’ll see how things go and I’ll let you know more on the next update on the 5th, but the weekly update could very well be gone by that point, not that it has been exactly followed for the last little while 0_0

**Chapter 14: Rise of the Phoenix**

Sygil stared at the smouldering ruins of his base, fuming.

The entire town was in disarray. The perimeter walls had been reduced to rubble on the north, east and western flanks.

Many of the buildings had been reduced to mere rubble, with the wooden supports and floors burnt down to ash.

The remains of brick walls stood in some parts, connected to what was left of various floors, most of which had collapsed.

Corpses stretched as far as the eye could see, numbering in the thousands.

They decorated the fields, their blood staining the ground crimson. They lay strewn throughout the town, their blood and entrails doing little to distract from the destruction wrought.

For the most part, the corpses in the town were much more distinguishable, at worst lacking a head or limb.

The fields were much worse. The barrage of explosives and the hounds had ground the soldiers into paste and gristle, with bodies shredded, spraying streaks of chunky flesh everywhere.

Limbs were almost impossible to distinguish, and the bodies looked like canned tomatoes thrown haplessly, with shredded clothing and armour stained crimson with drying blood being the only reminder that there was once a soul inside the carcasses.

Fires could be seen scattered everywhere, with the worst on the hill behind him. What hadn’t been destroyed by the catapaults had most certainly been burnt down by the flaming arrows.

Sygil felt himself inhale deeply in an attempt to calm himself and clear his stormy thoughts.

_This… is a major setback. All thanks to you, Clair._

Judging by the number done to his base, he could only imagine the losses his forces incurred.

Standing up, he dusted as much of the dirt from his suit as he could, feeling the drying blood caked throughout his clothes harden and crumble like dried paint.

He had sat on the hill top for about half an hour to grant his subordinates time to get a damage report as well as organise the survivors.

Now, it was time to face the music.

* * *

Approaching the rubble that once was his front gate, the stench of death, identifiable by the leaking of bodily wastes and blood, seemed to intensify.

There hadn’t been enough time to even get the place cleaned up, with priority instead being focused on extinguishing any major fires that threatened to burn down the rest of the town. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, but pockets of flame lay scattered throughout the town.

He clenched his gloved fists as he stepped over rubble and corpses alike, making his way to the mansion, or rather, what would be left of it.

He had dematerialised his weapons, however, he let his hounds continue to roam the perimeter, acting as defence and scouts alike to warn and ward off any further attackers.

Sygil doubted that would be the case, but opportunists might see the smoke and come to investigate.

There was no denying the facts; his base was left wide open and vulnerable to another attack.

_No sense delving into what-ifs. It is what it is now._

Still, it didn’t mean he had to be happy with things now. And he most certainly was NOT happy.

As he walked down the bloodied main street, he could make out the roof his mansion over the remains of the other buildings.

The roof was caved in and missing sections, with traces of dying smoke wafting from within. It wasn’t billowing out, per se, reassuring him that there wasn’t a raging fire, but then again, there could be for all he knew. His only assurance was that his subordinates would have hopefully extinguished any threatening fires.

The only dangerous fire remaining was the one burning inside him as he surveyed the damage.

Walking around the bend in the street, he was greeted by the sight of approximately twenty individuals gathered around the front door of his mansion.

The fountain immediately before him had been smashed by a flaming boulder, with the water that had leaked out diluting the nearby blood to a more pale pink hue.

As he stalked towards the mansion, he could see most the people gathered were sitting down in small groups, with a couple individuals standing tall over them.

As he got closer, an individual noticed his presence and began to approach him.

Upon closer observation, Sygil realised it was Quantum.

“What the hell happened to you?” Exclaimed Sygil, taking note of Quantum’s missing left arm, cracked eyepiece and otherwise charred body. Much of the metal on his left side was warped, with protruding mechanical pieces and otherwise damaged metal showing. That didn’t appear to slow down the automaton one bit, who strode up to Sygil quickly.

“I sustained some damage when the laboratory exploded, master.”

_So it was indeed the laboratory that exploded. Just shit._

Sygil sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

“Will you be able to function still?”

“Once I repair myself, I can begin work on restoring the base. Though, with the damage sustained, that will take a considerable time.”

Sygil had a feeling Quantum was referring to not just the damage he had personally sustained, but the base and workforce as a total.

“Do you have a report on everything?”

“Indeed, master. It’s… not promising,” he trailed off uncertainly.

Sygil almost found it amusing that the otherwise indifferent machine could replicate emotions with his already damaged vocoder.

“Well, we’re not getting any younger. Let’s hear it then.”

Quantum began rattling off everything as they both slowly walked to mansion, stopping a short distance from everyone.

“For starters, our forces numbers have been significantly reduced. Of the 42 Demihumans and 20 mercenaries initially, only eight demihumans, including their commander Trisha, have survived. Only four mercenaries, including their commander Alizia Grenevaulch have survived. Our entire workforce for labour purposes has been decimated, with all 183 villagers killed.”

_Shit. That isn’t promising at all._

There was more, however, as Quantum continued.

“The barracks has been destroyed, as well as the reconverted workshops in the main street. The mines suffered a cave-in during the attack, and only one of my drones survived. The wall has suffered numerous breaches alongside the west and east, with the entire northern wall destroyed. Only the southern wall and gate remain undamaged.”

_Great. Totally vulnerable and exposed now._

“Nearly all of the homes are destroyed, with the mansion taking the least damage. But, as you can see, it was still impacted by the assault.”

Sygil looked at the smashed windows, chipped wood, cracked bricks, and caved in upper roof. There was a hole on the outer left wall, with part of a smoking boulder still buried half in it.

“The laboratory was destroyed when the gunpowder I was bottling ignited.”

“Wait, ignited? How did that happen?”

“An enemy flaming arrow managed to land on the gunpowder, triggering its premature combustion. The resultant explosion took half of the floor with it, collapsed the roof and damaged enough of the structural supports that the building collapsed. The explosion also damaged my left side, which was directly exposed to the explosion.”

“And what about Miss Grenevaulch? Where was she? She didn’t return to me with the other men carrying the bombs.”

“She was with me when the gunpowder detonated, master. She survived, and is with the other meatbags.”

“Curious, isn’t it?”

“Could you please elaborate master?”

Sygil raised an eyebrow at Quantum.

“It’s curious that wherever she was involved, we suffered problems. The southern gate was overwhelmed almost instantly. She was in charge of that. Then, the laboratory was destroyed. The gunpowder ignited because of a stray arrow? I have my doubts. But where was she when that happened?”

“She was with me, master.”

“Precisely. One time’s an anomaly, two’s a trend.”

“Perhaps you are being paranoid? We just suffered a major incursion. Perhaps…”

“Perhaps nothing, Quantum. Betrayal is par the course, especially when dealing with mercenaries. But,” he shrugged nonchalantly, deciding to continue walking towards the gathering, “perhaps I am mistaken. After all, coincidences tend to happen. Tell me. Is there anything salvageable from the laboratory?”

“Negative sir. All of the gunpowder detonated. All of the synthetic chemicals were ignited, and all of your apothecary supplies burnt down.”

Sygil could feel his anger begin to swell with each passing word.

“Everything was lost in the attack.”

It took all of his willpower not to scream in outrage. Instead, he clenched his fists so tightly that the leather in his gloves was borderline ready to tear. A vehement hiss escaped his tightened lips.

Sygil glanced at the individuals scattered before him.

Maxmillian and Hans were standing watch over the six new captive prisoners, their helmets removed and their hands clasping the back of their heads. They were plastered in blood, stripped of their weapons and dignity.

Resting not too far beside them were the three remaining mercenaries, with Alizia standing in front Beovhan and Clair, watching them. She was covered in nicks, cuts and bruises, her helmet forsaken to let her long hair flow more freely.

And finally, Trisha and the remaining demihumans were slouched up against the bushes and walls, exhausted from the battle. They were covered in their fair share of wounds, but nothing too severe to warrant immediate medical attention. Trisha and an elderly demihuman woman, the same one that had questioned him several weeks prior, were the only two standing, conversing lightly.

“This is all that’s left?” Sygil’s nonplussed tone killed the faint muttering and redirected everybody’s attention.

Trisha almost looked like she wanted to shoot him a filthy look, but was too tired to. Everyone else looked a mixture of confused, nervous, or miffed.

Sygil closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly, before resting his gaze upon Clair and Beovhan.

“My, my, Clair. You really did a number on me. I was wrong to underestimate you. I’ll give you that.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Clair’s timid voice rang out.

She was filthy, as was Beovhan.

“Oh, well the attack of course,” began Sygil calmly.

“Now, I don’t know what you were hoping to accomplish, but I’ll give credit where credit is due. I have been set back tremendously.”

The atmosphere seemed to become cold and tense, with everyone hanging onto the words dripping from Sygil’s mouth.

“Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m not angry, right now. That is because I am not.”

Sygil’s suddenly jovial exclamation caught everyone by surprise, but the next words were spoken with such vehement venom that any hope withered and died right then and there.

“I am absolutely _furious_ ,” he seethed.

Sygil stared at the semi-circle of people before him, and approached the far left where the new prisoners were.

His pacing was slow, but deliberate. Ominous even. With every step, his rage became more evident.

“All of my hard work… gone.” He snapped his fingers sharply.

“Just like that. Three weeks to build this up, and in the span of not even three… fucking… hours…. It’s gone.”

Some of the prisoners he strode by began to tremble, his cold eyes boring mercilessly into their souls.

“My base is ruins. Destroyed by an Army, not of bandits, but _soldiers_. Soldiers sent by the late Baron Joyce.”

He drew out each word, gauging everyone’s reactions as he walked by them.

“My mine is destroyed. So production has been set back. My _miners_ … are dead. My builders are dead.”

By now, he was in front of the three mercenaries, who were all too eager to avoid his gaze, shuffling uncomfortably.

“My smiths, are dead, my farmers, are dead.” He listed casually, tapping out a finger with each group he listed.

“My whole workforce… is dead. Slaughtered by the Re-Estize Kingdom’s army, under the employ of some noble. A noble, who was sent here for a reason.”

He scanned the crowd, as if searching for someone or something.

“My army is now in ruins, with not even a handful of mercenaries left, and only a few other warriors.”

Sygil felt a frown mar his face.

“My barracks are destroyed. My wall is destroyed. My whole fucking compound lays in ruins, exposed to the next opportunist to come along and try and plunder from. My fields are razed, and my laboratory is a smoking. Fucking. Hole now.”

All throughout his tirade, Sygil did not raise his voice. And that, perhaps, was what unsettled most of the people present.

By now, he was standing in front of Clair and Beovhan.

“But perhaps, the most infuriating aspect of this whole debacle… is not the ruined base, no. Nor is it the complete slaughter of my people now. No, it’s that you have set me back a tremendous deal with my advancements.”

Sygil barely restrained his shaking in anger.

“All of my apothecary supplies. Burnt to ashes. New chemicals to produce new technological innovations… gone. **Quantum had his fucking left arm blown off for Christ’s sake!** ”

He gestured angrily to the automaton, his voice finally raising.

“And an army? Just happened to be wandering through the area and decided, ‘ _hey let’s just do a raid for no apparent fucking reason?!’_ I. Doubt it.”

Sygil leaned down towards Clair, sneering as he growled out.

“I have been set back… a _tremendous_ amount.”

Standing up in exasperation, he continued to pace in front of the demihumans now.

“And now? We probably will have the attention of the whole fucking Kingdom thanks to that little stunt of yours.”

He glared at Clair and Beovhan.

“Which is exactly what I was trying to avoid right now!”

Calir stammered out defensively.

“W-we didn’t do anything. We’ve been trapped in the cages you locked us in!”

It was at that point that something within Sygil snapped. His eyes widened in white-hot fury, and so he stormed towards Clair.

Before she could react, his hand shot out and grabbed her by her hair, dragging her out.

She started to scream out in protest, and Beovhan jumped up quickly to throw himself on Sygil, but suddenly Trisha was on top of him, putting him in a headlock and forcing him back down.

Sygil ignored them, his rage focused on Clair as he dragged her out to the open in front of everyone.

Alizia stepped forth uncertainly, but a glare from Maxmillian made her pause.

Sygil shoved her to the ground face first, and she let out a cry of pain.

“Didn’t do anything?!” Sygil hissed incredulously.

“Spare me your fucking lies you little witch.”

Clair forced herself up onto her knees, turning to face Sygil, a mixture or pain, fear and anger plastered across her face.

“You had everything to do with this,” he continued, livid.

“You managed to get a message out to Baron Joyce, using that god-damned trader Reginold. Joyce got the message, and with the blessing of Count Iselk and Viscount Schlauss, sent an army here thousands strong, with the sole intent of killing me and razing this place to the ground.”

Clair looked ashen all of sudden, her face draining of colour.

“I know because when I made Baron Joyce squeal, and trust me, I know how to make people squeal, he told me. Right before I painted the ground with his worthless brains.”

Sygil leaned in menacingly to Clair, so close to the point where she could feel his warm breath on her face.

“You thought you could try to usurp my control and kill me. But you failed.”

He stood up, leaving the trembling woman to her own horrified thoughts.

“P-please,” pleaded Beovhan.

Sygil raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Please don’t kill us. We’re sorry! We won’t ever do anything ever again. Please, just let us go, and we’ll leave, a-and you’ll never hear from us! You can keep the land, the money, everything!”

By now, tears were beginning to leak down the man’s face.

“Please! Just don’t hurt us! I’m begging you!”

The man’s final sentence sounded more akin to a desperate wail as fear eclipsed his voice.

Sygil strolled towards the fat man, kneeling down with a giddy expression on his face as he revelled in the fear permeating the air.

It reminded that he was in control.

“Is that begging I’m hearing from you, Beovhan?” Sygil almost sounded excited, the hints of a savage smile threatening to spill across his features.

“It really suits you much more than that other filth you used to spit at me,” he goaded.

Beovhan bit back a retort, feeling his tears starting to leak more noticeably.

_Oh, god, we’re utterly fucked!_

While Sygil was not privy to the despairing man’s thoughts, there was no mistaking the realisation of the situation.

Sygil stood up slowly, a small twisted smile on his face.

“I don’t know, though. This stunt you’ve both pulled makes me question your remaining usefulness, and whether I should keep you anymore.”

Beovhan went pale and rigid with fear at the implications.

“W-wait! We can still give you things! We can make things right! We can send a message out to the nobles. Tell them th-that we have regained the property. Then they’ll leave you alone. And you can take that contract you wrote and if anyone questions you can show them that it is now your property after we gave you the property, a-and we’ll leave you alone and never come back!”

The man’s desperate words and suggestions came out rapid-fire, his adrenaline running high.

Sygil felt his lips twist into a frown.

“And how, pray tell, am I expected to explain the complete and utter evisceration of a Kingdom-sanctioned military to everyone, let alone the fact that the noble Baron Joyce is currently lying in a field missing half his body and head? Hmm?”

By now, Beovhan was trembling, and Clair’s whimpers were becoming more audible.

“I-I…” he stammered.

“Y-you can’t kill us!”

Sygil turned to face Clair as she suddenly screamed out.

Sygil raised an eyebrow at her, which only encouraged her to continue.

“You have no fucking RIGHT! You-you CUNT!”

Sygil slowly began to walk to where she was kneeling at full height, tears streaming down her face as she tried to glare at him defiantly.

He stared at her dispassionately as he approached her, his shadow looming over her.

“Y-you’re a monster!” she spat.

Sygil couldn’t help the small chuckle that erupted from him.

“I’m a monster? How quaint, you fucking hypocrite.”

He couldn’t be bothered wasting time to debate with her ethics.

“You’ll die, and when you do, the Six Gods will send you on a flaming horse to _hell_! Where I hope you rot and burn for eternity!”

“God, you say?” Retorted Sygil, looming over the shaking woman who was clutching her heavily pregnant belly protectively.

“Oh, my dear,” smiled Sygil.

“Your gods mean nothing to me because they are nothing. They’re dead, aren’t they? So what exactly are they supposed to do, then?”

Sygil stared at her mockingly.

“Nothing! I spit on your gods just as I spit on you,” he all but practically spat.

Clair spat back with a mix of desperation and vehemence as she stared up at him defiantly. He could almost commend her for her conviction. Almost.

“The Six Gods will not let this evil go by!”

“Woman, you’re delusional. I’ve already gotten away with everything. If these Six Gods you speak of were such powerful almighty deities, they would have interfered by now, but they haven’t. Such pointless faith is meaningless and lost in reality. Fate is what _you_ , as an individual, make of it. And right now, _I’m_ the one deciding it.”

“Then spare her of whatever fate you plan, and take it all out on me,” came the resigned voice of Beovhan.

Sygil shot an eyebrow up in amusement as he slowly angled his body around to face the destitute man.

“You? Are willing to sacrifice yourself to spare your wife? I didn’t know you were so chivalrous, Beovhan.”

Clair felt the tears run down her face as her heart raced.

“Beovhan?! Wh-what are you doing!”

“Face it darling. We’ve lost. We’re completely at this _monster’s_ mercy. But I refuse to let you suffer.” With that, Beovhan stared up at Sygil with resolution.

“Kill me. Torture me, or do whatever you want to me. But spare my wife. Please.”

Time seemed to slow down as Sygil and Beovhan locked eyes. One pair held cruel amusement, the other resigned conviction. Two indomitable wills battling out and refusing to concede.

After what seemed an eternity, Sygil slowly closed his eyes as his shoulders sagged, letting out a slow chuckle.

“I suppose I really did underestimate you, Beovhan. Perhaps you’re right in a manner of speaking. I shouldn’t kill Clair at all.”

Beovhan felt himself let out a bated breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

The atmosphere almost seemed disturbingly tranquil. Peaceful even. To the warriors in the gathering, however, the more apt term would have been ‘ _calm before the storm_ ’. And a storm it would be.

The sudden glint of steel in Sygil’s hand shattered the tranquillity, but before anyone could react, it was too late.

* * *

**Recommended Soundtrack: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood OST – Mortal Sin**

* * *

Beovhan’s eyes widened to saucers in panic as Clair let out an agonised scream. However, he was helpless to watch as the sabre Sygil suddenly materialised tore through Clair’s stomach like a hot knife through butter, spilling blood and amniotic fluid everywhere.

Clair collapsed on her side, an ear-piercing, agonised wail screeching through the air as Clair desperately clutched at the opening wound on her rapidly-deflating stomach, trying to hold the bloody entrails and viscera supporting her, very-likely, bisected child.

Beovhan let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“CLAAAAIIIIIIRRRR!”

Sygil flicked his bloodied blade dispassionately as he frowned down at the screaming woman.

“I’ll leave your fate to your Six Gods instead. Whether you live or succumb to your injuries is now in their hands. We’ll see if they truly do exist and even care.”

“CLAIR!”

Beovhan watched as his wife’s complexion paled, a product of the sudden shock and blood-loss.

Clair’s desperate cries started to die down to pained gurgles as her hands became drenched in her own entrails and child’s remains.

“CLAIR! YOU SICK BASTARD! I’LL KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU HEAR ME! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Beovhan tried to pounce on Sygil who was glancing at him disinterestedly, but Trisha tightened her hold, keeping him pinned down and incapable of moving.

Sygil glanced at Beovhan coldly.

“I warned you. Plenty of times, in fact. There would be consequences for your actions. You tested my patience with your stunt, bringing the Army on to my doorstep like you so foolishly did. Which brings up another interesting point. Alizia,” he summoned without giving a second glance. She cautiously stepped forth.

“Yes, sir?” She timidly responded.

“I find it curious that the Army managed to so quickly and easily infiltrate the Southern gate like they did. You were in charge and placed your most trustworthy soldiers on duty, am I correct?”

Alizia felt her heart drop, and was certain her palour was paler than normal, but otherwise answered as naturally as she could.

“That is correct. Though I – “ Sygil continued firmly, ignoring her excuses and protests.

“And I also find it peculiar that you happened to be alone with Quantum when the whole laboratory blew up. Relatively unscathed too, I might add,” he continued upon glancing her minor scuffs, scratches and bruises.

“I didn’t do anything at all, sir. I’m telling the truth!” Everyone could hear the desperate pleading in her voice.

“No, you didn’t, I suppose,” Sygil mused quietly, looking at her forlornly.

“That was all you needed to do after all. Was nothing.”

At that, Sgil’s voice hardened as he summoned his Desert Eagle, aiming it at Alizia’s head as he snarled out. Alizia’s eyes widened in shock.

“I don’t like traitors.”

And with that, before anyone could say or do anything, he pulled the trigger.

The entire back of Alizia’s cranium exploded outwards, spraying blood, brain, bone, hair and flesh everywhere as the metallic bang resonated throughout the air.

Alizia’s corpse barely hit the ground before Sygil wheeled on Maxmillian and Hans.

“I have no use for those prisoners,” he shot out, gesturing to the six captive Re-Estize officers who suddenly looked even more terrified.

“Shoot them,” he waved dismissively.

Maxmillian and Hans both stepped to the side to give some distance from the captives. Sygil tossed his Desert Eagle to Hans who caught it easily, while Maxmillian produced the other handgun Sygil had loaned earlier.

Before anyone could react, they both had their weapons aimed at the kneeling prisoners who were sputtering and protesting. But it was for naught.

The screams were drowned out by the sound of the hand-guns essentially being spammed, spraying blood and viscera everywhere onto the ground before them.

The corpses hit the ground in a bloody heap, blood rapidly pooling out.

Sygil’s eyes shot out to the three remaining tense mercenaries.

“Now, as for you three. I have no real idea where your loyalties lie. As such, it is too risky to keep you around, therefore you’re a liability.”

The mercenaries faces morphed into horror at the sudden realisation of their fate.

“Now, just wait a minute-!”

“What the fuck man -!”

Sygil ignored their protests as they quickly made to stand. Instead, he snapped a gloved hand in their direction, before droning out his command.

“Kill them.”

The shadows behind the three mercenaries suddenly sprang to life, demonic eyes and drooling teeth looming over them as they suddenly began to cry and whimper in terror.

They let loose terrified and painful screams as the hounds descended onto the three mercenaries, spraying blood and gore everywhere as they gorged themselves on the feeble humans, digesting the steel armour just as easily as the flesh and blood they were made of.

As the demihumans watched the grisly spectacle with a mixture of fascination and horror, Sygil pinched the bridge of his nose, letting loose an exasperated sigh before turning his head to face the raging Beovhan.

“And now, you’ve made me go and do something even I find detestable. You really are a work of art, aren’t you Beovhan.”

“YOU KILLED MY WIFE AND CHILD YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

“Yes, and as much as I hate killing such an innocent and pure soul like your unborn child, I gave you fair warning, and have been incredibly lenient towards you and your wife’s actions. You brought this upon yourself. Yet even still, after you have been punished, you find ways to still infuriate me.”

With those hissed words, Sygil strode over to Beovhan, before gripping him tightly by the collar of his ruined short, hoisting him up and forcing Trisha to let go of him.

The second her arms let go, Beovhan swung his remaining fist in a desperate haymaker towards Sygil’s face. Before it could make contact however, one of the monstrous pet hounds Sygil kept suddenly appeared, it’s bloodied teeth clamping down on his arm, biting it off.

Beovhan let loose a painful scream, while Sygil didn’t even flinch as blood splattered across his suit and face.

Sygil spun and tossed the wounded man directly onto the crumpled heap that was his wife.

“And even now,” spat Sygil. “You can’t even keep your fucking blood off of me.”

Sygil strode over, outstretching his hand, materialising the hand-gun he tossed to Hans.

“You’re so desperate to be with your wife, then? Well, let me give you a free express ticket straight to hell to reunite you with the bitch.”

And with that he levelled the handgun at Beovhan’s screaming face and fired.

The round blew the top half of his head right off, exploding blood and brain matter in a grisly shower over his silently dying wife. A lone eyeball dangled from what remained of the eyesocket.

With that, the only sound permeating the air was the sound of flesh being devoured by the shadow hounds.

Sygil lowered his gun as he glowered at the remains, before his gaze settled on Clair’s pale face.

A sneer suddenly plastered itself across his, and without even thinking, he aimed the gun at her head and let a round fire, killing her right then and there as well.

He stood there for several long seconds, his rage having erupted. The remaining hatred and anger finally erupted, and with snarl he aimed his gun at the two corpses and unloaded several rounds into their bodies, not even bothering for a specific target. He just wanted to vent his fury.

Flesh and blood exploded in grisly showers of gore, desecrating the remains of the bodies before Sygil finally regained his composure, glancing at the bodies with contempt.

With an airy exhale, he dematerialised his handgun finally, turning around to address the remaining subordinates of his.

“Well…” he began slowly. “Now that’s taken care of, I suppose this place needs a bit of a clean-up. Trisha,” he barked. The woman jostled at her name.

“Take your remaining warriors and see to putting out the remaining fires.”

Sygil shot her a sharp look as she hesitated, giving her incentive to obey the command. She gestured for the remaining Demihumans to accompany her, and they were more than eager to leave the vicinity and escape from Sygil’s presence, as well as his hounds.

Sygil watched them leave, before finally returning his gaze to bloody mess before him and his three NPC subordinates.

“What are your orders sir?”

Maxmillian was the one that had spoken.

_What now indeed…_ pondered Sygil. Everything was destroyed now. This setback was a costly one. Still. As much as Sygil would have loved to wallow in grief and anger, he was not going to allow this mere setback to hold him down. No, he would find a way, somehow, to emerge from this ugly fiasco.

“Quantum,” he finally called.

“Yes master?” Droned the automaton.

“Will you be able to repair yourself?”

“Definitely. Though, it will take two days to fully repair and upgrade myself back to peak functional levels, especially with the lack of quality resources available.”

_Damn you two!_ Sygil internally snarled at the late couple he had executed.

He earnestly wished their stay in hell would be agonising for every eternal moment.

However, such thoughts would be of no service to him at this moment. No, he had to instead on focus on the here and now.

“What are our current defensive capabilities?”

“Following the loss of the mercenaries and most of the demihumans, as wells as the destruction of a perimeter wall, not good, sir,” responded Hans.

“The only reason we survived was due to our high levelling when compared to these primitive gnats. The firearms were most useful,” he continued.

Sygil frowned as he placed a thoughtful thumb under his chin.

“But we cannot rely solely on our skills and firearms to get us through any problems we encounter. Otherwise we will never be able to make any damned progress.”

Sygil felt himself sneer.

“We’re almost back to square one thanks to those treacherous bastards.”

“There is another concern sir,” added Maxmillian.

“Since this world uses a noble caste system, the sudden disappearance of Baron Joyce and his army will likely draw further attention to us in due time.”

“I’m well aware of Maxmillian. We have at best a couple weeks before they start asking questions as to what the hell is going on. So much for being inconspicuous,” he groused under his breath.

“Since we lack an army, what will be doing now for defence? Or should we move to another location?”

Everyone looked at Hans, who had raised the questions.

“That is not true,” began Quantum, much to everyone’s surprise.

“We do have an army, right in front of us,” he elaborated.

“Please explain,” frowned Sygil.

“The corpses. So long as they are not too damaged or decayed, the bodies can be reanimated as organic puppets, including levelling them up to much higher levels. If Maxmillian were to work with me in reanimating them, we would have a readily available army. Despite being weak organics, if done right, they would be reprogrammed to be entirely loyal to you, master.”

“You’re saying you can reanimate the dead?” Sygil was sceptical, amazed and concerned.

“It is less reanimating the dead so much as it is injecting an artificial soul into the vessel that is the body, much like with an automaton. In fact, it is significantly cheaper than creating automatons, even, master.”

Quantum almost seemed to be beaming.

“They would be loyal to me, and not ever change loyalties due to their past memories?”

The last thing Sygil wanted was a repeat of the mercenaries.

“The original soul residing in them is gone, master. What we would be doing is creating artificial souls and placing them in the bodies to commandeer them. And since the souls are created by us, they would, by extension, be loyal to you.”

Sygil had to admit. The idea had some validity to it.

“And you’re certain you can achieve this?”

Quantum nodded.

“Absolutely certain. The only limiting factor is our ability to work quickly before the viable corpses decay. To combat this, I suggest placing the corpses in stasis until they can be augmented.”

Yes, this would work indeed. Even better!

Sygil felt a grin sweep across his face.

“This sounds like an excellent plan. How long would it take to raise this army?”

“Unfortunately, due to the lack of available resources and the necessity of restarting operations, it could very well take up to three months to augment every available corpse to become a soldier. And that is not accounting for the logistics of equipping each soldier with weaponry, supplies and more. Additionally, if you want me to continue on the technological upgrades and research, especially into the category of firearms, it may take even longer.”

Sygil felt his mood sour at the mentioned timeframe.

“I suppose I was a little too hopeful in that regard. And that leaves us the next concern. The base itself. It’s a disaster. We’re vulnerable to every opportunist.”

Quantum spoke up.

“If Maxmillian were to help with the preservation of the corpses, I can look into using the salvaged materials around to quickly produce an automaton work force. I can split them between repairing the bases and building defences, as well as gathering more resources and minerals.”

Sygil nodded in satisfaction.

“Do it, then. Have Trisha and the remaining demihumans salvage the corpses and place into stasis. Then get to work on repairing the base.”

“Pardon me for questioning,” began Hans, “But why can’t you just create defensive automatons already, Quantum?”

“That would require me to be at least level 55, as well as have sufficient attributes in weaponry research and production that I currently lack,” intoned the automaton in what was almost an irritated voice.

“Ignoring that,” interjected Maxmillian impatiently, “What are we going to do about the situation regarding the nobles? We know that Baron Joyce was sent with the approval of several other nobles. That means it’s only a matter of time until they investigate their missing army and Baron.”

Sygil frowned. This whole debacle that Clair and Beovhan unleashed was proving to be a headache.

“Right now, I’m not too sure. We’ll probably have to deal with them more directly. And soon.”

Maxmillian nodded.

“Understood. However, what are we supposed to about base defences? We can’t have the demihumans work on rebuilding and guarding at the same time. We have no real substantial army currently.”

Maxmillian was right. With no standing army, they were vulnerable to roaming bandits or another army battalion arriving. And with the prospect of the reanimated soldiers being potentially months away, any defence offered would be too late.

_And we don’t have enough demihumans warriors…_

At that moment, something clicked inside Sygil’s mind. He found his lips tugging into a small smirk.

“I think I know where we can get our army…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I’m kinda curious. How many of you expected it to go that violent? I’m honestly expecting some people to drop this story at this point. I do question if I have pushed the violence too far this chapter, but I’m sure if I have I’ll hear about it in the reviews. Oh well, it’s not like I actually condone violence of any sort. You’re more than welcome to tell me your thoughts, opinions, questions and more, and I’ll try to get to them by the next update. If you’re still interested in continuing to read this story, then welcome aboard! The fun is only beginning… >:)
> 
> Next chapter will be on the 5th February 2021, and yes, I’ll try to make it a bit longer (~10k)
> 
> Take care until then


	15. A bitter pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this is up late. To be fair, it is still technically 5th February, even if I only have 2 hours to spare...
> 
> Yeah sorry about that. Technical issues. Next chapter is going to be out in three weeks instead since things are getting a bit more busy on my end (26th February).

**Chapter 15: A bitter pill**

* * *

The next two days were relatively busy. Before Sygil could even _think_ about paying Gallheia and her tribe a visit, he first had to organise the remains of the base and have the bodies shifted and stored. Maxmillian and Quantum oversaw the majority of that particular operation, while Hans and several demihumans helped clear the rubble and clean up the destroyed town. The remaining demihumans were on corpse duty, bringing salvageable bodies back to mansion for storage.

Surprisingly, everyone managed to work diligently, and the base and fields were being cleaned up in record time. Most of the bodies were stored and in the process of being magically preserved by Quantum and Maxmillian. Busted bricks, mortar and rubble was being piled in a large junk-pile just outside the town for possible later use or destruction. At this point, Sygil wasn’t too certain, but he figured he would cross that bridge at another point.

Sygil had anticipated more salvageable corpses, but when Quantum gave him a report on all of the bodies available, he was surprised to say the least.

“We have salvaged 4,017 bodies, of which only 1,993 have all limbs attached, having died from deep lacerations or arrow wounds. The rest are missing limbs but can be salvaged.”

When Sygil asked why only so many bodies were salvageable, the automaton merely intoned dryly that ‘the other organic meatbags have been reduced to organic fertiliser due to your hounds and explosives.’ And that wasn’t even counting the incinerated corpses from Maxmillian’s flame-based abilities. There weren’t even any bodies to collect or identify, only fields of ash.

Speaking of fields, much of the current ones had been burnt down to the soil. The crops, nearing so close to harvest, were utterly decimated. That meant any potential future profits in the near future from trading the grains and more were non-existent. Yet another reason to be furious at the setback.

Still, justice had been enacted, and all he needed to do now was rebuild. And of course, acquire an army. However, that whole dilemma was likely to be sorted in the near future, with additional insurance in the upcoming months.

As loathe he was to wait, he could afford to be patient to watch his efforts bear fruit. However, he still wanted to be granted assurance of a somewhat reliable defence in the interim. Which was why he was in the process of tracking down Trisha and the elder demihuman woman he had threatened weeks ago. One who had, surprisingly, survived. Then again, being the oldest meant she probably had the experience necessary to survive as long as she had. All the more reason he wanted to speak to her.

He wasn’t stupid. While his intentions were ambitious, without proper preparatory knowledge and planning, it would all go to waste. He wanted Gallheia’s forces as his own. That didn’t necessarily mean he needed Gallheia. In fact, first chance he got, he would ensure she would be properly deposed. He didn’t need a repeat of the last incident.

He casually strode by the damaged mansion, observing several demihumans on a short rest break, idly chatting amongst themselves. He could make out Trisha and the elderly demihuman in their midst. They were as exhausted as they looked.

Sygil’s approaching footsteps seemed to finally gain their attention, and they perked up as he came closer. They seemed to stiffen as he approached them, with one of them standing up quickly to say something.

“We were just taking a quick break, we’ll be –“

Sygil just held a hand up to silence her, which worked.

“That’s fine. You need a small break to rest. I’m not going to deprive you of that or lay a punishment for something that your bodies need. You’ve all been loyal to me so far and have done tremendous progress so far, so you have my appreciation.”

The woman looked somewhat stunned, and the others appeared to relax their shoulders ever so slightly.

“However,” continued Sygil. “That is not what I am here for. You two,” he gestured to Trisha and the elder demihuman.

“I’d like to have a private discussion with you. Walk with me.”

The elderly demihuman tried to object.

“We still have work to do, and they need my help.”

“They’ll be fine without you for the time being,” dismissed Sygil.

“Now, enough stalling, and come with me.”

The two demihumans stood up uncertainly, glancing at their fellow comrades who shrugged. Trisha and the other began to follow Sygil apprehensively, the violent displays from the other day still fresh in their mind, serving to remind them of their current boss’s volatile demeanour.

They followed Sygil wordlessly to the ruined courtyard out the back of the mansion, until Sygil finally spoke up.

“You have no need to be so apprehensive around me, you do know that right? I haven’t gone back on my word to look after you and your sisters. And you haven’t done anything to earn my ire.”

With that, he spun to face them, throwing his hands in the air jovially.

“So relax, rejoice and be at ease! You are my employees, so your safety is paramount to me as a worthwhile investment.”

The elder demihuman lowered her head uncomfortably as she murmured uncertainly.

“That’s where the problem lies. You see us as nothing more than an investment to profit from, same as the other humans. Only, instead of beating us for sex and slave labour, you offer trinkets and food in exchange for eternal servitude, keeping us forever trapped here to your whim.”

Sygil couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her words.

“Really? That’s how you see it? Just another form of slavery?”

“It’s not how we _see_ it, it’s how it _is_.” This time it was Trisha that retorted.

“And once you’re done with us, then you’ll simply discard us. But only after we’ve been broken and destroyed for your purposes.”

Sygil couldn’t help but let a defeated sigh escape his lips.

“I’d have thought you’d have come around to see the truth, after all these weeks. I’ve been honest with my intentions this whole time. You agreed to serve me, knowing them.”

Trisha appeared to glower at his words, biting out quietly.

“It’s not like we had much of a choice.”

“I beg to differ. I gave you choice, and you made it, knowing full well what it would entail. Besides, you make it seem so bad, like it’s exchanging slavers.”

Sygil paused to observe the two for any reactions. After waiting several seconds, he continued.

“Your lives have been improved, there’s no denying that. I have given you food, shelter, clothes, weapons, and a cause to fight for. You have been free to make your own choices for a while now. It is you that has chosen to serve me.”

He continued after observing their shock.

“Don’t be so surprised. Since you were freed from Clair’s trappings, you and your sisters have had the ability and opportunity to leave me at any time. You just chose not to.”

“Because you kept us here under threats of violence for any acts of betrayal,” shot back Trisha.

“A standard warning to any that serve me. Treason has consequences, as I have reinforced before. The same can be said with those that are loyal. Rewards abound for those that serve me faithfully.”

“So you mean,” began the elder, “that this whole time, we could have just up and left back to Gallheia?”

“Well, yes,” he replied calmly. “But ultimately you chose not to. So tell me. Why didn’t you?”

“Because you would have hunted us down and killed us?! Like you did to everyone else back there,” shot Trisha incredulously.

“Not necessarily. Sure, I would have been disappointed, but ultimately, I want those that are loyal to me to remain. Sellswords like the mercenaries were bound to disappoint sooner or later. In this case, it was sooner. Besides, we all know you could have left once you were all freed. You had the numbers and means to, yet you did not. So tell, me why did you choose not to?”

“I…,” began Trisha uncertainly, a frown marring her features as she began to reflect on her own decisions. Eventually, she took a deep breath and spoke.

“Because, you made a deal. One which, as much as I may have hated, and still do, offered the freedom of all of us. You were honest with your intentions, and you haven’t gone back on your word, technically.”

Sygil could feel a small, satisfied smile creep onto his face as Trisha spoke.

“And, because you honoured your end, without doing anything untoward us, our honour – _my_ – honour, dictates that I repay you back by upholding my end of the deal you proposed.”

Sygil felt satisfied with her words, and nodded in affirmation.

“And that is why I will not discard you elsewhere, like a broken toy to be replaced. You, and your fellow warriors, have exhibited honour. Something the mercenaries were incapable of. And that alone proved they had no loyalty to me.”

Sygil strode closer to the two women until he was standing mere centimetres from their faces.

“You, on the other hand, have exhibited honour, and have been faithful to our deal. However, I still do not have your loyalty.”

Those words were biting ones, unsettling the two demihumans who were used to experiencing only human cruelty and violence, and witness to his own brutality.

He let a sad sigh escape his lips.

“Even now, you are still paranoid that I will lash out and harm you and your sisters. After all this time, when I have done nothing but honour my end of the deal, you still doubt me. My intention has never been to hurt you or cause issues. However, I cannot keep playing this waiting game for you to come around anymore.”

With that, he stepped back before turning his back to them.

“In order to build my empire, I need people to be loyal to me. If you are not truly loyal to me, then leave now. I cannot afford to deal with more backstabbers and brigands.”

He was met with silence, until…

“I suppose, I have been unfair with my judgement to an extent. Despite being a human, you have never done anything untoward to us, and you have ensured our wellbeing, at least better than the other humans.”

“So then. Do I have your loyalty?”

Trisha let loose a sigh.

“Well, we are honour-bound to uphold the deal you made. To back out of it would be dishonourable.”

“Well, excellent then,” Sygil exclaimed, almost gleefully.

“Since you are loyal to me, then you won’t mind helping to answer a couple of my questions?”

The two demihumans exchanged curious glances before returning their gazes back to Sygil.

“Like what? I doubt we know anything of any real value to you?”

“On the contrary, actually.”

Sygil took a seat on stone steps near the back door, patting the space next to him.

“Please, take a seat. There’s much I would like to discuss.”

Pensively, the two took a seat besides Sygil, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten your name,” he tilted his head as he looked at the older woman.

“Aerus,” she replied bluntly, clearly disinterested in any formalities.

“Well, Aerus, to put simply, I need an army. While I have a long-term investment plan, I need an immediate one now. Preferably as in _now_.”

The two women watched Sygil curiously, wondering what he was planning.

“Of course, I know where exactly to get such an army.”

After a moment of realisation dawned upon Aerus’ face, and her features morphed into shock.

“No. Absolutely not! You cannot possibly be thinking of…”

Sygil’s slowly growing smile was the tell-tale sign needed to confirm her suspicions, before Trisha’s features also morphed into shock.

“Yes,” purred Sygil. “I want Gallheia’s tribe as my own army. They are skilled warriors in their own rights. I am certain you can vouch for that; after all, you came from them, correct?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the point!” Aerus was obviously flustered, and Sygil obviously didn’t care, much to her chagrin.

“It is precisely the point. I need a way to gain the allegiance of Gallheia’s tribe, so they can loyally serve me as a replacement army.”

“Gallheia wouldn’t allow it!” Snapped Trisha.

“Of course she wouldn’t,” snorted Sygil.

“But what makes you think I give a damn what that condescending bitch thinks?”

That didn’t wash over to well with the two demihumans who visibly bristled and seemed to growl at Sygil’s words.

“Don’t ever speak ill of Gallheia,” growled Aerus.

“I thought you just said you were loyal to me? Any past allegiances are null and void now that you serve me.”

“That may be so, human, but Gallheia has done everything to ensure the righteous ways of Old are followed to give us our prosperity. She has – “ Sygil wasn’t having any of it, and wasted no time cutting through her tirade like a knife.

“No, Gallheia is a self-obsessed, power-hungry, maniacal nutjob that is so wrapped in her own warped power-fantasies that she is willing to do anything to be top-dog. Why do you think she has never rescued you or your sisters?”

Aerus went rigid, and Trisha seemed to lower her slightly, almost as if in shame.

“The strong survive – “ Began Aerus, but Sygil scoffed, cutting her off again.

“Oh please, spare me that bullshit. That’s just some psychological crap that she used to condition you to accept whatever fate was bestowed upon you. And like a good little conditioned slave, you lapped it all up and bought into it. Meanwhile, she used you to serve a purpose. One which failed, and seeing as she didn’t get what she wanted, decided to cut her losses and leave you to rot. That’s not some grand plan by her or whatever deity you pray to. That’s just her own selfish agenda backfiring and throwing you under the bus because it was more convenient. If you can’t see that, then you are truly dumber than you look.”

“Gallheia sacrificed everything for us all! For the betterment of the tribe! If she wasn’t so righteous, The Order wouldn’t have granted her their blessings! Are you saying that the Messengers of God themselves are selfish and liars?!”

Sygil tilted his head back slightly to avoid the flying spittle as Aerus roared.

“I’m saying that Gallheia has played you for a fool. And either your precious Order is in on it, or they were just as easily fooled as you have been. Either way, Gallheia doesn’t care about anything. She most certainly isn’t righteous. I can attest to that, considering she went back on her word when we last met.”

_That_ seemed to pique both their interests.

“When did you meet?” Inquired Aerus, her anger dissipated, replaced by curiosity.

“A couple days before I took over this place. Your precious Gallheia tried to hold me captive before deciding I should be killed. I made a deal in exchange for my freedom and some directions, and your dear leader went back on her word in a vain attempt to kill me.”

Sygil smiled widely, revealing his teeth.

“Obviously, it didn’t work. But, despite being primitive, your fellow tribal warriors are skilled enough to competently hold out against any rabble of bandits or soldiers like the ones we just dealt with. Which is why, I want your help in changing their allegiance to serve me.”

“Even if we wanted to, there’s nothing we can do that can help you. Gallheia won’t let an outsider usurp The Order’s will, nor will those warriors be willing to serve a human.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to kill Gallheia, won’t I,” he casually intoned, ignoring the gawking tht Aerus did.

“You can’t just kill her?! Have you no honour?! No, forget that, I’ve seen how you operate.”

“And going around raping men to propagate your tribes numbers is honourable?” Sygil couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in amusement.

“That’s not… It’s about strength. If they weren’t strong enough to fight us, then they deserved what they got!”

“Well, then by that standard, you’re weak,” shot Sygil. Aerus glared back. “We are not weak.”

“Yet you were captured and enslaved for several years. You didn’t even break yourselves free. I did that for you. If we’re going by merits of strength, then I think it’s clear that I am leagues stronger than you.”

Aerus twitched in irritation until Trisha spoke up.

“As much as it hurts, he does speak some truth. He did… _rescue_ … us,” she spat the word out like it was poisonous.

“And, as much as you might hate me saying this, but Gallheia didn’t come back for us. If we weren’t truly as valued as she made us out to be, why didn’t she send someone to search for us?”

“Trisha?! You can’t be seriously saying that…”

“I’m not saying anything,” sighed Trisha, rubbing an eye tiredly. “Just that, well, he does make some valid points.”

“Thank you,” concurred Sygil merrily.

Trisha shot him an annoyed glare, before letting her gaze soften slightly.

“You’ll be taking us with you to speak to Gallheia?”

Talk _is a strong word for what I have in mind._

“Essentially, yes.”

“Then,” began Trisha, glancing sympathetically at Aerus, “perhaps we can find out the truth for ourselves.”

There was a moment of silence, until Aerus spoke up with determination.

“Maybe. But no matter what happens, I am not letting you kill her,” she stated, sending a look towards Sygil.

“I think you are forgetting who orders who,” he snapped.

Aerus looked at him scathingly, but regardless bit back a retort.

“Now, regardless, I need to know the best way to subdue Gallheia and convince everyone to serve me loyally.”

“Doing it by brute force won’t work. You’ll just turn them against you.”

Trisha made a valid point, but Sygil already had accounted for that.

“I’m well aware. Are there any suggestions for how I could go about it then? Seeing as you were once part of the tribe?”

Trisha was silent while Aerus glowered.

“There… there is one possible way. If you were to invoke the Right of Articus, Gallheia would be honour-bound to recognise you, upon which you could demand a fair trial by combat where both opponents list the relevant stakes, under the adjudication of The Order. It would be a sanctioned trial therefore. That is, of course, if you even manage to get a word in before she declares you unholy, filthy and a barbarian.”

Was Trisha actually smiling? Whatever it was, it wasn’t out of malice, rather amusement.

“If you win against your opponent, then Gallheia will be honour-bound to listen to your demands,” continued Trisha whilst Aerus scoffed in disappointment.

“ _If_ you win against her chosen champion, I would like to hear her opinion on the matter of why we weren’t aided by more warriors after our… capture. As much as we might be wary of you, we still deserve to know the truth about what happened with Gallheia. Let us at least have some closure…”

Sygil let his charming smile, fake as it may be, dissuade her from thinking otherwise.

“Of course…”

* * *

The very next day in the early hours of the morning, everyone stood present as Sygil and his small team prepared themselves.

Trisha and Aerus would be accompanying him to provide both an escort and an alibi to peacefully gain entry into the tribal camp. Hans would be accompanying Sygil as an escort, using the rifle gifted to him to quickly cut down any threats, especially should the locals prove hostile during the ‘negotiations’.

“It’s not the demihumans I’m concerned about,” warned Sygil to Hans.

“It’s those women from their Order that have me wary. Their strength and speed is much superior to the demihumans.”

He still remembered his physical encounter with two of The Order members, and while they hadn’t engaged in direct combat, what inkling of strength displayed set him on edge.

Normal mortal human beings didn’t exhibit such frightening strength. Not unless there was something unnatural about them. Which was all the more reason for Sygil to take Hans with him.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t take everyone with him as work still needed to be done on the base and to prepare the bodies.

Quantum had just about finished repairing his body. Speaking of bodies, all of the salvageable corpses had been gathered and were currently being preserved until later use. All that left was cleaning up the remaining debris and entrails in the town and fields. Though, the crows had been quick to assist with that. Sygil swore one couldn’t go two steps without one of the little black-feathered avian creatures getting in the way.

“All right everybody,” began Sygil in a voice carrying authority. Everyone perked up when he spoke.

“Maxmillian will be in charge while I’m gone. You will continue your duties as per-normal.”

The remaining demihumans nodded slowly.

“Maxmillian.” The NPC stood straighter and looked at him more intently.

“I’ll be gone for a couple days, at least. Try not to kill anyone while I’m gone.” A slight, humorous chuckle emanated from his lips.

Maxmillian didn’t get the joke, apparently, as he just stared at Sygil quizzically.

_Sheesh. I forget that you’re actually an artificial being at times._

“I take it you will be returning with the army?”

“One way or the other,” replied Sygil as he glanced at Hans who was slinging the lever-action rifle over his shoulder.

“We’re too vulnerable as it is now. If some other trigger-happy prick decides to stumble across us, we won’t have anything left to build. That attack did a severe number on us.” Sygil’s tone was much more serious now, and Maxmillian nodded.

“I’ll get the demihumans to start working on a basic perimeter wall. I’ll have to utilise the pre-existing building structures, meaning it will be a smaller base, but we’ll be better able to defend ourselves, especially with our depleted numbers.”

“Hmm, yes. Well, hopefully our numbers won’t stay depleted for long. Once the bodies have been preserved, store them somewhere safe and out of sight. Quantum can get to work on the mining and expanding our workforce again. Hopefully we can recover in the next couple weeks and be back on track.”

“Most definitely, sir,” concurred Maxmillian.

“Well, better get going then,” breathed Sygil, interlocking his gloved fingers before stretching them.

“Take care while I’m gone, Maxmillian.”

“You too, sir,” nodded the NPC fondly.

“Alright ladies and gentleman,” gesturing to Trisha, Aerus and Hans.

“Let’s go. If we leave now, we’ll be there hopefully in the late afternoon.”

With that, the four left the ruined base and began their journey, back to where it all started.

* * *

Twisted and gnarled roots, patches of moss, the odd chirping sound a small bird or some strange insect, and the dampened light from the thick canopy overhead, combined with the musky smell of organic decay and rotting wood reminded Sygil exactly why he cared little for the forest. To Trisha and Aerus, however, it was home. The familiar scents and terrain stirred back memories for them, but they chose to keep their contentedness to themselves.

They walked in silence for the most part, especially the two demihumans who were most familiar with the terrain, years of training and instincts ensuring they remained almost soundless, despite being weighed down by leather and material tunics and steel weapons.

Sygil and Hans, while silent in their own right when walking, were not as in tune with the forest as the other two were, who were acting as de-facto leads for Sygil to take them to Gallheia. Sure, he remembered the direction she was based in, but he was willing to let the two take the lead.

Hans kept closer to him, keeping a vigil eye out for anything that might perceive a threat.

“So, forgive me for asking, but how do you intend on gaining this army? From what I’ve been hearing, they’re nothing but a bunch of primitive savages, and inherently hostile ones at that.”

He kept his voice low so as not to attract undue attention. Sygil responded in kind.

“Trisha and Aerus will vouch for us so we can enter. Once inside, we will get an audience with Gallheia, one way or the other, and from there, I will challenge her to a duel by invoking their own laws against them. As warriors, they will be honour-bound to comply, even if I am an outsider. To refuse me will be to show cowardice and weakness.”

“And what if she refuses to acknowledge her champion’s loss?”

Sygil felt a grin weasel its way onto his face as he stepped over a log.

“I’m not fighting a champion to represent her. I did that the last time, and just like then, she will go back on her word. No. I’m going to directly challenge _her_ to fight me. Once I win, I will have the tribe as my army, as I will stipulate a winner takes all.”

“And what if the tribals refuse to bend the knee?”

“That’s what Trisha and Aerus are for. They will vouch for me, and the fact that life is better under my rule.”

Hans frowned.

“Forgive me for saying so, sir, but I have my doubts about them actually helping you convince the others to see your greatness. They’re still rather sceptical of you, sir.”

“Not after expose I Gallheia for the lying, conniving pig that she is. By that point, everyone should see her for the power-hungry fraud she is, and Trisha and Aerus will come around. Ideally, so should everyone else.”

“And if they don’t?”

Sygil pursed his lips as he glanced at Trisha dn Aerus up ahead, making sure they were out of earshot.

“Then we reanimate the corpses like planned while keeping the remaining demihumans under service to us, and once we have our permanent army, we cut our losses with _them_. Permanently.”

Hans understood the lethal implications behind that.

“Should we make it look like an accident?”

Sygil let an amused scoff out.

“Please, there’d be no witnesses or anyone to challenge us anyways. You only do that when you’re playing a political game with rivals and need to keep others from suspecting you. I could care less since they’re tribals anyways. No-one will really notice if they’re gone.”

Hans mentally reprimanded himself for his temporary ignorance.

“Of course sir, I didn’t mean to overlook that.”

Sygil laughed.

“Ha, don’t worry about it.”

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, with only the odd word being spoken, if at all.

The near non-existent light levels in the forest made it difficult to judge if it was day or if night was approaching.

Sygil would have let his mind wander a bit more on such trivial matters, but Aerus and Trisha both suddenly came to an abrupt halt, hunched low with their hands on the hilts of their respective swords.

Instantly, both Hans and Sygil came to a stop and took defensive stances. There was nothing around, and no sounds to indicate any disturbances.

It took Sygil a second to realise, but then he acknowledged that was the problem. There was no sound.

_A predator, or are we close to our destination?_

After waiting a moment, neither Demihuman appeared to be moving. Wasting no time, Sygil melded intohis shadows to rematerialize next to the two demihumans, whilst Hans quietly unslung his rifle.

“What is it?”

His whisper startled the two demihumans who both spun their heads around to face him, surprise evident on their face until it was replaced with a more neutral expression.

Ignoring Sygil’s creepy appearance, Trisha spoke up quietly.

“There’s something nearby.”

Sygil couldn’t hear or see anything through the foliage, but he was willing to trust the two demihumans on this matter.

“Any idea what it is?”

Before Trisha or Aerus could speak, a sudden roar from within the forest bellowed out. It almost sounded akin to the beast he encountered when he first arrived in this new world.

The two demihumans bolted upright, drawing their weapons.

“That’s a Forest Troll. But…” Aerus trailed off uncertainly.

“But what?” Pressed Sygil as Hans strode over.

“It sounded like it was in pain,” replied Trisha.

“We’re near where the tribe is situated. I think it might have been caught in a trap,” explained Aerus further.

“But our sisters might be there as well,” started Trisha before she suddenly bolted in the direction of the roar.

Sygil didn’t even have time to let his jaw drop in surprise as his eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, Trisha?! What are you doing?! Get back here!”

She didn’t listen however, nimbly travelling through the dense foliage, making minimal noise.

“God damn it,” he hissed, beginning to follow her. Aerus and Hans were quick to follow as well.

“Trisha! You fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

_I thought being the strongest meant there would be some level of cool-headedness, not blindly charging at the first thing you hear._

It didn’t matter now; they were running towards the sound of the troll. All Sygil could hope for was that his next encounter with Gallheia’s tribe didn’t at least start off with him tied up again.

It didn’t take long to eventually reach Trisha’s destination. Bursting into the clearing, they came across the source of the roar.

Indeed, it was a troll, as expected. What was _not_ expected was the handful of tribal demihumans tying the beast up by its hands and feet, blood splattered all over the ground, likely coming from the deep gashes and lacerations on the beast’s body.

The demihumans, likewise, did _not_ expect to see two dressed fellow sisters and two humans come barging through the foliage upon them.

“What the hell?!” Exclaimed one demihuman in surprise, the rest jumping to their feet and brandishing weapons.

Sygil didn’t even bother drawing a weapon as the threat posed, realistically speaking, was minimal.

Their surprise turned into shock as they recognised him, some suddenly becoming uncertain about wanting to fight him, the memories of his massacre still fresh in their minds. Others had their resolve harden as they tightened their grip on their weapons.

“Well,” drawled Sygil.

“Long time no see, ladies. Mind doing me a favour and helping escort my comrades and I to meet your highly esteemed leader. Gallheia?”

The tribals gawked at him, before the leader of their group gestured to two others to take off back to inform Gallheia.

“What are you doing back here,” sniped the lead demihuman.

“Business,” retorted Sygil, sending a subtle look at Trisha before redirecting his gaze back to the other demihumans.

“I intended to have a more formal introduction, but I suppose this will have to suffice. Now, if you would so kind as to help lead me back to meet Gallheia, I would very much appreciate it.”

The demihumans bristled, ad Hans readied his rifle in case things turned messy. Sygil could feel annoyance well up in him at the situation.

“Wait, he’s with me,” started Trisha, placing her hands up to placate the tense warriors. It was the first time he heard genuine emotion in her voice.

The lead demihuman faltered, lowering her blade slightly as she glanced at Trisha in momentary confusion.

“Trisha? Is that you?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

Slowly, the demihuman lowered her sword blade as she looked at Trisha in awe.

“No way… you’re alive?”

Trisha felt her eyes lower slightly, almost as if she were ashamed of the attention upon her.

“Yes. It’s… been a while.”

“Years,” corrected the other woman, her comrades starting to lower their own weapons. “What happened?”

“It’s complicated,” began Aerus slowly, catching the other’s attention, who were just as equally shocked.

“Master Aerus? You’re alive!”

She flashed a weak smile at the younger demihuman who had exclaimed from the back.

“Yes, young one. I’m alive, and in good health. A little old now, but that’s what happens when time passes.”

“Of course, Master. Though, if I may ask, what are you doing with these two humans? Especially one as dangerous as _him_ ,” questioned the lead demihuman, who gestured at Sygil warily.

“It’s a complicated matter,” began Trisha. “But, we are currently indebted to him.”

“Indebted? Him?”

Sygil quickly interjected, seeing as it was going to be one long string of questions that would eat into his time.

“Yes. Now, unfortunately, we don’t have time to exchange pleasantries. We’re burning daylight, and it is important that we meet with Gallheia.”

The demihumans shot wary looks at him, but Trisha spoke up on his behalf.

“It’s an important that we meet with Gallheia. Please, if you could lead us back…”

“Of course,” apologised the other demihuman. “Though, I would advise you keep an eye out on this human. He can prove quite dangerous.”

She didn’t catch Aerus muttering under her breath. “You have no idea.”

“We should tie them up,” she continued, gesturing to both Hans and Sygil.

“Try it and you’ll end up just like the others,” spat Sygil defiantly. The woman suppressed an involuntary shiver that that threatened to emerge.

“They won’t do anything untoward you without provocation,” assured Trisha. Aerus’ nodding was the confirmation the rest needed to feel somewhat at ease, but years of indoctrination and instincts, as well as the past experience with Sygil, served to remind them of the potential dangers.

“Fine. It’s probably best if Gallheia and Aries deal with them anyways. I can escort you back to Gallheia. The others will follow once they finish with the troll.”

“Then lead the way for us,” urged Aerus.

* * *

It didn’t take long before the group finally came upon the wood and stone walls surrounding the small village and temple.

As they approached the gate Sygil couldn’t help but remark.

“Just as primitive as I remember.”

“Quiet human,” growled the demihuman escorting them.

“I love it when sheep try to pretend their dogs, completely forgetting the fact that they’re in the presence of an actual wolf,” chuckled Sygil, earning a glare from the woman.

As they approached the gate, several demihumans suddenly rushed out, surrounding the entire group, spears, arrows and swords aimed at them, or more specifically Hans and Sygil.

Following the guards was none other than Aries, flanked by two warriors from her order, their armour identical to the day Sygil had met them.

“Why have you returned,” called Aries, her voice carrying an air of authority.

“I’m here to speak with Gallheia. I have important business with her,” stated Sygil.

“You have no business with anyone here, Mortal Man. Leave. Now. And I’ll spare you. This is your only warning.”

Aries wasn’t one to mince words, but neither was Sygil.

“Not until I get what I came for,” began Sygil, his voice firm and strong, showing no weakness. Only determination.

“You’re tenacious for a human. As much as I might respect such a quality, you have to be dealt with then.”

She began to approach Sygil, hand on the hilt of her own sword while he spoke.

“Oh, well as much as I would love to entertain your antics, I would rather not waste any of our time fighting it out with you, especially in an unsanctioned combat honourably.”

Aries paused at his words, before narrowing her eyes to scrutinise him.

“And what, pray tell, brings you back here.”

“Why, I was promised safe passage and an audience with Gallheia. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

The demihuman escorting them stepped forth meekly under the harsh looks the Order members were giving everyone, herself included.

“I was escorting them as Gallheia would know what to do with them. Especially since Master Aerus and Trisha have returned,” she offered.

“Aerus?” Quizzed the other woman sceptically, before letting her gaze roam across the newcomers, finally settling on Aerus’ worn features. She felt her eyes widen and soften ever so slightly as they made contact with Aerus’ own.

“By the gods. That is you…” she felt herself whisper.

Her momentary surprise was interrupted as Trisha stepped forth and spoke.

“He is with us,” she gestured to Sygil.

“If permitted, I would implore that we seek an audience with Gallheia herself. We bring important news.”

Aries raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance towards Sygil.

“Important news, such as bringing back this murderous human?”

“And whose fault was that? Self-defence is perfectly valid, and I offered a diplomatic choice that was refused vigorously.”

Aries let loose a small, exasperated sigh.

“I suppose you should be brought before Gallheia.”

“Who should be brought before me?”

Gallheia’s voice rang out from behind Aries near the gate.

Approaching was none other than the queen bee herself, surrounded by a small escort of other Order members, their unique armour reflecting the mixture of sun and torchlight.

“Your majesty,” genuflected Aries.

“Aries,” began Gallheia coldly upon gazing upon Sygil.

“Why, is this _thing_ back.”

“Good to see you too, Gallheia. I see you’re still the same arrogant bitch as before. I guess things never change.”

Gallheia’s features morphed into a snarl while Aries quickly spoke up.

“He was brought here by an escort from one of our hunting parties. Accompanied with him were several presumed dead members from a previous hunting party.”

At those words, Aerus and Trisha stepped forth, kneeling before Gallheia who looked at them with indifference.

“And this is important how? I have two humans standing before my very home, and they’re not dead or in a cage,” she snapped irritably.

“We’re from the raid on the human settlement of Merigold years ago, your majesty,” intoned Aerus, lacing her voice with respect, much to Sygil’s internal annoyance.

“We have important news concerning the human settlement,” began Trisha, waiting for Gallheia’s permission to continue, which she gave with an interested flick of her head.

“The human settlement has been destroyed. Several more of our sisters remain there, waiting to return.”

All of the demihumans and Order members had varying looks of surprise, even Gallheia.

Aries was quick to school her features before directing a question back to Trisha.

“Why are the rest of them still there, then, and not returning back immediately?”

However, before Trisha could answer, Sygil spoke up.

“Because I ordered them to remain.”

The look that Gallheia and Aries both shot him was priceless.

“You… what?!” Growled Aries lowly.

“I freed all of your captive warriors at the town, and as part of a deal brokered, they now serve me in exchange.”

Perhaps it was petty, but Sygil couldn’t help but smugly relish in the look of abstract horror plastered on Gallheia’s face at his proclamation.

“Trisha, Aerus and the others are now loyal to me.”

Gallheia glared at Trisha as she seethed, Aries tightening her facial features as took in the news.

“You… willingly chose to forsake your duties and loyalties to serve under some mortal, human, man?!”

She spat the words out as if they were poison, each syllable leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

Trisha almost looked ashamed under the scrutiny of the tribal demihumans, but before she could protest, Sygil interjected.

“Let’s cut to the chase Gallheia. You have something I want – “

“SILENCE!” Roared Gallheia, her face reddening with impromptu rage.

“You have the audacity to come her, taint my followers, and make demands of me?! You – “

Sygil felt his patience wane, so without a care in the world, he summoned his Desert Eagle, aimed it in the air and fired.

The resounding gunshot crack cut Gallheia off, and nearly everyone flinched at the foreign noise.

Without allowing any respite, Sygil spoke.

“I am invoking your Right of Articus, and challenge you to single combat, where the winner takes all.”

Aries furrowed her brows warily, while Gallheia clenched her fists, baring her teeth in rage-driven snarl.

“How do you know of such things?”

However, a cursory glance at Trisha and Aerus’ somewhat guilty features was enough to make Aries realise the truth.

“You told him, didn’t you.” The disappointment, despite being laced through a soft tone of voice, seemed to cut through to Trisha’s very core.

Sygil paid little attention however, and instead locked eyes with a defiant Gallheia.

“Well? What’s it going to be? Are you going to keep your honour and accept my challenge, especially in the presence of your sacred Order? And in front of your own subjects, no less? Or are you going to further prove to me that you are a snivelling coward, not fit to be a leader and honourably fight to keep your word?”

Gallheia was honestly wishing she hadn’t stepped down from her temple now. With all of these witnesses around, especially her own subjects watching nearby, to refuse such a challenge when invoked using such a sacred law, and in front of The Order no less, would be openly saying she was weak so anyone could usurp her.

As much as she wanted to deny him such a request, especially since he was filthy human, she could not. And that infuriated her even more as clenched her Unholy staff more tightly.

_This can be fixed. I’ll just have Aries fight him this time._

“Very well,” she gritted out. “I will accept your challenge, winner takes all. Let us clarify what the conditions are, as well as what the winner will take.”

“Simple,” smiled Sygil smugly.

“I get your entire tribe, and their loyalty to serve me unconditionally.”

Nearly everyone present save for Aries, her Order, and Sygil’s compatriots, gawked at such a seemingly ludicrous claim.

“Very well,” sneered Gallheia.

“Since you called the challenge, it’s only fair I set the conditions.”

“Please, go ahead,” smirked Sygil.

“A singular combat challenge, you versus another warrior, to the death,” she stated ominously.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

_Too easy, you stupid gnat,_ thought Gallheia victoriously.

“Then your opponent shall be Aries, my strongest warrior.”

However… “I refuse.”

Sygil’s proclamation stunned everyone.

“I’m not fighting some mere proxy for the tribe, Gallheia. No, I am challenging you directly. After all, what use is a leader if they are not strong enough to fight for themselves.”

_This bastard is trying to undermine my rule in front of everyone?!_

“Tsk. I don’t think you understand, little _human_. You called the challenge, it is only my right to set the conditions, so I call forth my champion to represent me.”

Sygil frowned in disappointment.

“Then I guess you are a true coward after all, not fit to be a leader.”

She glared at his attempt to publicly undermine her legitimacy.

“If you will not accept my challenge and fight me directly, then I have no reason to entertain winning over your tribes loyalty, and will instead take it by force. Either way, I am not leaving until I get what I came for. The only difference will be the number of bodies I leave in my wake.”

Aerus’ eyes widened at his words, well aware of his willingness to carry through with his word.

“Wait, your majesty! I highly encourage you to reconsider your words. He is more than willing to kill anyone to get what he wants!”

Aries bristled.

“Unfortunately, you are correct. Gallheia, we are aware of how strong he is and his propensity towards violence. The carnage he left the last time was evidence of that alone.”

Gallheia shot an annoyed look at Aries, while Trisha interjected.

“However, he is not without honour. He does uphold his word. If you accepted his challenge, there would be no unnecessary bloodshed.”

_Now that’s a pleasant surprise_ , thought Sygil, not quite expecting Trisha to so willingly jump to his defence and help like this. Not that he was complaining of course.

“If that is true,” began Aries, “then, under the Rights of Articus, it is for the best if you do fight him directly.”

Gallheia fumed and seethed, both internally and externally. Letting loose a deep exhale, she looked at Sygil vehemently.

“Very well,” she spat.

“I will _accept_ your challenge. Valera will moderate the duel, and we will begin in one hour.” She sent a glare at Aries.

“Is _this_ acceptable?”

Aries bowed. “Of course, your majesty.”

“Kira,” she called to one of The Order guards behind her.

“Escort them to the arena and prepare everyone to attend,” she gestured to Sygil and his three comrades.

“Right away,” Kira bowed, before she approached Sygil and his group. She signalled to them and the other demihumans present to follow her, leaving just Gallheia and the handful of remaining Order members present near the gate.

Gallheia tightened her grip on her staff, feeling the power within it radiate and swell as her anger grew.

“Aries,” she gritted out. “Do you remember what I said to you about a month ago? Right after that, _savage_ , left? Because I distinctly remember instructing not to ever undermine my orders again.”

Aries straightened upright, bristling slightly at her words.

“Yes. However, I have not undermined your orders. I have ensured that appropriate – “

“No,” started Gallheia, cutting off Aries. “You have allowed him an opportunity to directly humiliate and challenge me in front of everyone. And worse yet, you encouraged him! Are you trying to undermine me, Aries? Are you?!”

“Gallheia,” she pleaded calmly. “You know that is not at all what I was – “

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence as Galheia lashed out with her staff, cracking Aries across the jaw and sending crashing to her knees, her hands outstretching to catch the ground and break her fall.

Several of the Order members moved to help Aries, but she put a hand out to stop them as tried to catch her breath.

“And now you lie to me,” hissed Gallheia.

Aries could feel the blood start running from her jaw, the skin raw and burnt from the contact of the Unholy staff.

“Gallheia,” she warned. “You need to calm down and manage yourself. You seem to be forgetting that – “

“No, _you_ seem to be forgetting! That I am your leader. You serve me, not the other way around.” To reinforce her point, Gallheia swung her Unholy staff, the weapon connecting with Aries face and sending her tumbling backwards.

Aries let loose a hiss of pain as she made to sit up, wiping the blood dripping from her nose.

“Once I deal with this blasted human, I will decide your punishment,” spat Gallheia as began walking away to her chambers atop the temple.

“I am getting sick and tired of you trying to undermine me. Be at the combat grounds in one hour.” And with that, she left.

As soon as she was out of sight, the four remaining warriors of The Order rushed over to Aries to help her up.

She waved them off. “I’m alright,” she dismissed, standing up on her own accord.

“This is getting out of hand,” gritted out one the warriors.

“She perceives everything as a threat to her power. Power that we granted her. At this rate, she’s going to get you killed.”

“Or herself,” added another.

“One could only hope,” snorted a third, crossing her arms.

Aries sighed as she wiped the blood from her face, feeling the burnt flesh underneath.

“I doubt she can kill me that easily. Her only real strength comes from that bloody staff. Profane thing,” she spat out.

“Why can’t we just get rid of her,” began another exasperated warrior.

“You know why,” growled Aries gravely. At that, everyone became sombre.

“That bloody contract has given us more problems than benefit,” finally spoke one warrior.

“Indeed, Atreus. However, we cannot go back on a Holy Contract. We are bound to Gallheia and her bloodline.”

“But that’s why you pushed for such an opportunity to have her fight, isn’t it,” smiled one warrior thinly.

“I’ll admit, I am a little selfish,” began Aries coyly.

“We cannot interfere in a sanctioned combat trial, one where Gallheia knows the risks. I’ll admit, as much as I dislike the race of Men, I do find myself somewhat rooting for that little mortal,” she reminded.

“Well,” sighed Atreus dejectedly, “let’s hope that maybe we’ll be free this time. Though, I honestly have my doubts. With a staff like that, I don’t care how strong he is. He’s not going to win.”

“Maybe not, but he surprised us the last time. And maybe, even if he fails, his human companion might be able to finish the job.”

“You know we can’t let anyone kill her outside of the arena. We are bound by a Holy Contract,” frowned another warrior.

“Then perhaps it’s best if we take… slightly further away… positions to guard the arena, Jaesa.”

“Then here’s hoping he was fast reflexes,” grumbled Atreus.

“Anyways,” frowned Jaesa, “just say he does win and defeat her. Then what? We just hand over the tribe to him?”

“They are our responsibility, and we let our ways be corrupted by Gallheia and her bloodline. It would be up to us to remedy that,” reassured Aries.

“Under a mortal Man?”

“Gallheia is mortal as well,” she reminded. “Besides, our priority is to look after the tribe’s wellbeing. If that means temporarily under _his_ servitude, I can afford to swallow my pride a tad longer. It’s not like we would be contractually bound.”

“Don’t we all,” groused Jaesa.

“Don’t you worry about the finer details,” smiled Aries softly to reassure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You leave that to me. All the rest of you need to focus on is preparing for the upcoming fight.”

Jaesa returned the smile. “Of course, Aries.”

* * *

The arena was exactly the same as he last remembered it. Well, minus the blood and dismembered corpses.

Kira led them to the arena edge wordlessly. It didn’t take long for the crowds of demihumans to starting arriving.

“I can’t believe you actually directly challenged her,” muttered Aerus. Sygil chose to ignore her.

“Are you going to put a show on, sir? Or are you going to make it quick?” Inquired Hans.

“A display of strength is required. I’ll declare my victory conditions before everyone, and from there, I’ll give a quick, flashy beatdown. It needs to be flashy so it’s memorable, but it also needs to be quick to show she is outclassed.”

“Will you use your guns, sir?”

“Doubt it. That would technically take the honour out of the fight. It would be amusing though.”

Kira pursed her lips as she shot a frown at them.

“I hope you don’t intend on cheating in this honourable duel,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” laughed Sygil.

“Though, it would make me even with her, considering she cheated the last time.”

Kira merely harrumphed in annoyance.

It didn’t take long for the hour to pass, and true to her word, Gallheia arrived on time, sporting a new set of robes that, fortunately were not as gaudy as the clothes, or rather lack of, that the other tribeswomen wore. Actually, now that he noticed, several of the demihumans in the crowd were sporting more armour this time.

_Perhaps that little show I gave them made them reconsider_.

Oh well, it mattered little to him currently. His opponent was Gallheia, who was currently sporting blood-red set of robes that went to her feet. Her arms were exposed save for the excessive jewellery, beads and bracelets hanging from them, and a band of neck rings that ascended to her jaw. In her right hand she clutched the same warped, black staff, an ascending snake wrapped around the top.

Instantly, the murmurs in the crow died down as she stepped into the arena adjacent from Sygil.

Behind, Valera and other members of The Order arrived, with Valera taking to the side, likely as an adjudicator.

“My fellow people. Today, you may have heard rumours, that I have been challenged, by an outsider. Those rumours are true. However, under the Rights of Articus, and in respect to our traditions, I have accepted this challenge.”

Valera stepped forth.

“This is a combat duel to the death. No outside help is permitted, nor any challengers have a champion represent them in this duel. If the human will state its victory conditions before us…”

Sygil took that as his cue.

“If I win, I claim this entire tribe as my own army, loyal to myself and my subordinates, until death.”

There was a range of shocked, and even some outraged, murmurs in the crowd.

“And if I win,” began Gallheia with a sneer.

“I will claim everything you own as mine, and I will do what I please with it, including your little meatboy you brought with you.”

“We will see,” intoned Sygil mysteriously.

“Then if the combatants are ready…” began Valera slowly, eyeing the two to see if there were any objections to be made.

“Let the fight begin!”

Sygil wasted no time, shooting forth like a bullet towards Gallheia, summoning his sabre ready for a horizontal slash aimed at her midriff.

Gallheia, however, placed a foot back to brace herself, raisin the staff in the air before slamming it into the ground, exploding dust in an outwards donut in an attempt to blind him.

The dust stung his eyes, but he pushed through without relent, judging where her position should be through memory, and slashing.

His sword hit nothing but dust and air, and as it cleared, he saw she was gone.

_Impossible. Unless…_

On instinct he ducked and swung behind himself, catching the staff aimed at his head.

The staff didn’t break. Instead, an explosion of energy blew the two combatants backwards, surprising them both.

_What?!_ Internally screamed Gallheia.

_There’s no way he should have deflected that!_

Likewise, Sygil was contemplating why his sword didn’t break or crack the staff.

_Curious._

Regardless, Sygil was back on his feet and charging back towards Gallheia, sword ready for an overhead strike to cleave her head in two.

She scrambled to raise her staff horizontally to deflect the strike, which Sygil saw coming miles ahead. However, he ignored her futile attempt to deflect him, surmising that his strength would be more than enough to overpower. Even if it didn’t kill her, his follow-up strike would.

However, it was not to be, and the instant second that his sword made contact with the staff, the same energy exploded outwards, pressing Gallheia deep into the dirt, and blowing Sygil and his sword off of the staff.

As Sygil went to recover, Aries pondered at the curious development.

“What is it?” asked Atreus quietly.

“That’s an Unholy staff,” she explained. “It shouldn’t react so violently to another weapon.”

“That… is strange,” admitted Jaesa, her curiosity piqued now.

“We’ll just have to see how this fight goes,” interjected Atreus.

Meanwhile, Gallheia suddenly found herself going on the defensive. Before she could attempt to use the magic within the staff, she found herself desperately trying to dodge Sygil’s relentless barrage of strikes. Normally she would have parried, but getting knocked off of her feet every time would only catch up to her and the bastard would eventually exploit an opening.

“Tell me, Gallheia,” began Sygil loudly and clearly so everyone could hear.

“Are you angry that I did your job and rescued your own captive subjects. Or are you jealous that by me coming back with them your rule would be undermined?”

“Shut-UP!

Sygil jumped back to allow her a breathing chance, which she used to stand up properly, holding her staff defensively.

“I find it curious for all your tradition and honour, you never went and sent someone to go help your own subjects.”

“I said. SHUT. UP!” With that, she thrust the staff in his direction, shooting forth tendrils of shadows like arrows, laced with teeth oddly enough.

Before they could hit him, though, he summoned his spiked chain, and with a quick flourish, deflected the incoming shadows.

_That_ caught everyone’s attention.

Gallheia’s eyes widened with pure shock, and Aries and her Order members suddenly stood up straight, hands on their swords.

“No way,” murmured Jaesa. Aries couldn’t help but silently agree with her.

“Neat trick,” complimented Sygil indifferently.

“I can do something similar,” he said chillingly.

Before she knew it, the ground underneath her feet suddenly became engulfed in shadows, even though there was nothing to cast them. The next thing she saw, however, was motivation enough for her to get out from the shadow before it was too late.

The out edges of the shadow shot up in spikes, before bending in like a cage. Then came the guttural growl from within the shadows themselves.

She jumped out to safety in just the nick of time as the shadows crashed shut, the sharpened points interlocking like teeth from a mouth comprised solely of shadows.

_No. It_ is _a mouth_ , she realised in abject horror, catching the glimpse of an eye lazily flicking towards her from within the shadows themselves, before dissipating away.

Her momentary distraction, however, proved to be her undoing, as the next thing she knew, the spiked chain Sygil was wielding suddenly wrapped itself around her staff hand and reeling in, tearing flesh and spraying blood.

She let loose a bloody scream as the staff fell from her grasp onto the ground, and she went flying towards Sygil, directly into Sygil’s fist.

Her head snapped backwards violently as her nose broke, blood and spittle flying outwards, her hair becoming a tangled mess as it became undone.

With a theatrical flourish, Sygil recalled his spiked chain, everyone watching in anticipation as it vanished back into nothingness within his shadow.

Before she could react, she suddenly found herself unable to breath. Sygil hoisted her up by her throat, a satisfied grin marred across his features.

“Looks like, _I_ win. Yield.”

She gurgled out angrily.

“Yield!” He commanded louder, tossing her face first to the ground, stomping a foot onto her back to keep her pressed down, his sabre mere inches from the base of her neck.

“Get off me!” she growled, her words becoming lost in the build-up of saliva in her own mouth.

He responded by applying more pressure onto her spine and letting his sabre touch her neck.

“Dammit! ARIES! SAVE ME!”

Aries felt her breath hitch at her call. The Holy Contract compelled her to step in and save Gallheia, but at the same time, this was a sanctioned arena fight that Gallheia consented to, knowing full well what the consequences were.

The taste of freedom on her lips was real, and, exploiting the potential loop hole in her Holy Contract was all too easy.

“I cannot. The rules and tradition dictate that I cannot intervene.” God, it felt so good to finally rub it into that bitch.

“Aries?” Gallheia’s voice came out a soft whimper, and for a brief moment, Aries was reminded of the young child that she once had helped train and raise. However, that very child was the one that grew into a deceitful coward. One which currently lie begging on the ground disgracefully.

“Say it,” hissed Sygil cruelly.

“I…” she was alone. No-one was going to save her.

“I yield,” she muttered, feeling tears well in her eyes.

“What was that,” whispered Sygil.

“I YIELD!”

Silence reigned supreme across the crowd as her words soaked in.

“Did you hear that, everyone? She has yielded to me. Therefore, I am the victor.”

Meanwhile, Aries could only look on in horror.

_No. If you don’t kill her during the sanctioned duel, then we will still be bound to protect her!_ She felt herself cursing at the human’s supposed act of mercy inadvertently being the source of his upcoming defeat.

Sygil continued, oblivious to Aries internal plight.

“And since I am the victor, I shall have my army. Do you agree, Valera?”

Valera was undergoing a similar moral crisis as Aries. If she declared him the winner, then Gallheia could easily order them to kill him as part of their Holy Contract. If she refused, however....

“This trial was to the death, as per the conditions,” interrupted Aries, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Regardless of whether or not someone yields, it can only end with someone’s death.” There was a subtle, desperate edge to her voice, but Sygil failed to pick it up. Gallheia, however, could. It was no secret between the Order and Gallheia that they wanted her gone because of her control over them. However, she knew they couldn’t do anything as per their contract.

Ultimately, however, the fate of everyone rested solely in Sygil’s hands. If he refused to kill her, then the challenge was over and she would unleash her Order upon him. If he killed her, then maybe the outcome would be better. Alas, Sygil had no clue as to the inner workings of the Tribe, and his growing arrogance due to easy victories made him more willing to indulge in his more demonic side.

“I still refuse. I will make an example of her later,” replied Sygil.

“Then,” began Valera, “I decree that the human is the honourable victor.”

And with that, Gallheia began to laugh.

Sygil glanced at her irritably. “What’s so amusing?”

“You think you’ve won, but in actuality, you’ve lost!”

Blood caked her face as she adopted a crazed look in her eyes, a gleeful smile revealing pearly white teeth.

Sygil kicked her over onto her back as she laughed.

“Maybe I’ll make an example of you now, instead, actually,” he frowned, reaching down to grab her.

As he hoisted her up, Aries and the other Order members slowly advanced on the unawares Sygil, hands on the hilts of their swords.

“Wait!” Called Trisha, causing everyone to stop, even the Order members. Sygil glanced at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“What?”

“Before you do anything, I have to know. Why didn’t you send anyone for us? There were over forty of us still captive, and many more that died over the years? Why, Gallheia?”

Her words rang out through the air, and Gallheia felt herself frown.

“Why should I care about the weak.”

Those words were more injurious than any sword strike could be. To be called weak by the very leader idolised by nearly everyone in the tribe.

“You failed a simple, bloody task, and brought shame to this tribe. We went a whole generation without new warriors to raise. Our numbers have dwindled as a result, and you failed to bring back anyone. You were a disgrace to this tribe. And still are. Frolicking with some human like a pet. You sold yourself to them, instead of maintaining your honour.”

Trisha’s eyes widened at those words, and Aerus stepped forth in equal amounts of shock.

“You… call us weak, and dishonourable. For serving the tribe and doing nothing but bring victory to it over the years. And yet, in our time of need, you never even bothered to care about us in return? Yet here you lay, begging for your life to be saved?! YOU are the coward!”

Faint mutterings in the crowd could be heard, some in shock, others in slight agreement with the hypocrisy concerning Gallheia.

“I will not be lectured by some failure that willing serves a human of all things!”

Sygil raised a hand over Gallheia’s face menacingly.

“Well, it matters not. You’re going to be serving me for a long time. I haven’t had a soul to eat in this world before. I wonder if it’s as tasty as Vessie’s was?”

Aries felt herself stop moving in shock as flame-like tendrils of shadow began to wisp from the human’s outstretched hand.

It wasn’t natural. No, scrap that, _nothing_ about this human was natural. It was almost as if he was some monster.

“Now,” began Sygil as Gallheia squirmed. “If only that bloody Angel Asphaestus would die this easily.”

Every Order member, Aries included, felt their eyes widen ever so slightly.

“What did you just say?” Demanded Aries harshly.

Sygil angled his body to face Aries. “Say what?”

“That name. How do you know that name!”

Sygil narrowed his eyes warily. “What’s it matter to you?”

Suddenly, it all made sense to Aries.

His incredible strength and speed that surpassed a regular human’s and was on par with Valera. His ability to summon weapons using shadows, his _manipulation_ of the shadows, his talk of consuming souls. And of course, his familiarity with the Angel Asphaestus.

“You’re a servant of Lucifer. You’re a damned Demon,” she hissed in realisation as she drew her sword.

Sygil felt his eyes widen in surprise.

_How could she know I’m a Demon? Unless…_

He recalled Valera’s strength when he was first held captive, and Aries’ strength and reflexes when he first arrived. All the talk of some fanatical religious order, Messengers of God, and of course, her familiarity with the name Asphaestus.

All of a sudden, it made sense. And now, he realised how serious his situation truly was.

“Aw shit. You’re an Exalted Angel…”

* * *

Maxmillian looked at the final corpse that had just been preserved. It had been a busy couple of days working alongside 47 to make sure all of the salvageable bodies were collected, preserved with the correct enchantments, and then placed and stored in the underground cellar of the damaged inn.

It was the only building large enough to properly store over 4000 bodies. The armour was left on the bodies, as the priority was storing the bodies before they could decay. Once proper defences could be established, then the armour could be stripped and salvaged. Same as the weapons. For now, any loose bits of metal, whether armour, weapon or trinket, were thrown into a misshapen pile outside the mansion.

Quantum had finished running repairs on himself and had just left mere minutes ago with his remaining drone to go clear out the mine to work.

The remaining demihumans had finished clearing out the debris from the attack several days ago, and now were working creating a basic wall connecting between the remaining buildings and the existing parts of the wall that weren’t damaged.

The new wall comprised of only wooden logs, crude and simple at best, but sufficient enough to stall any future attackers, even if not by much.

Maxmillian watched as the demihumans milled about, working tirelessly. He could feel a contemptuous sneer begin to work its way on to his face.

_Filthy creatures._

How his glorious creator tolerated such insignificant worms working under him, he would always wonder. Sure, they had their uses, but humans were more ideal stock than non-humans.

Just thinking about the two demihuman women working with the Supreme Being made his skin crawl. Still, he had a plan, and Maxmillian could acknowledge the merit in using the existing natives as a stepping stone to creating his glorious empire. So, Maxmillian did his best to repress his disgust.

He walked back up the stairs of the cellar into the light of world, the hole in the inn’s roof flooding where he was standing with light.

_What a mess_.

The inn, like every other building, was half-destroyed. Its walls barely were holding up what was left of the ceiling, and the interior was busted to pieces.

Taking a step outside of the inn into the fresh air, all Maxmillian could do was think about the future prospects as the base was restored.

_Things will be better soon…_

Now, all he needed to do was –

“Maxmillian!”

One of the demihumans was running towards him in a hurry, desperately calling out to him to get his attention.

He felt an eye twitch in irritation.

“Maxmillian!”

“I can hear you well enough. What is the problem now.” His voice was laced with his contempt for the demihuman, which had been returned back by all of the demihumans over the weeks since they started working together.

The demihumans oddly enough seemed to get on well with Hans, and were wary of Sygil, for good reason. But they seemed to hate him, not that he cared. The hatred was mutual. So long as they did their job properly, he tolerated them enough to not kill them.

However, this demihuman woman didn’t even bother shooting him a filthy look or retort, and concern was evident in her voice as she spoke.

“We’ve got people at the gates, and they seem hostile.”

Maxmillian let his internal prejudices disappear at the word of a threat.

“Who,” he narrowed his eyes, picking up his pace as he followed the demihuman back to the gates she was mentioning.

“I’m not too sure. Ilia and Mara are keeping them stalled right now, while I was sent back to get you. They might be roaming bandits, however.”

_Well they won’t be roaming for long._

“Get the rest of your brethren armed and up near the gate. If we’re going to have another fight, I want us prepared this time instead of caught off-guard.”

She didn’t even broker an argument as she nodded her and scurried off, issuing a small _‘right away_ ’.

She had been leading him to the damaged archway that was the northern gate of the original wall, which was just around the corner of the building he was approaching.

He rested a hand on the holster which now held the handgun Sygil had gifted him.

Bandits would be child’s play for him, but he didn’t want any more damage to occur to the base. And as much as he might not care for the demihumans, more corpses were the last thing he wanted from his own forces.

Rounding the corner of the building, he was greeted with the sight of three demihumans holding a makeshift barricade in front of the damaged archway of the old northern gate. New wooden walls constructed from freshly cut timber connected with the stone archway and connected with the buildings, forming the new perimeter wall.

He could make out some loud voices coming from outside the gate, directed at the demihumans.

“C’mon, why don’t you lovely bitches just let us in! We just wanna have a looksee around and speak to yer boss!”

Maxmillian ignored the banging on the wood as the demihumans held the makeshift door shut.

“What’s the situation,” he barked at the women.

“Some fucking humans want in. Bandits by the look of them. About a dozen of gnats,” gritted one demihuman as she applied more pressure on the door that the bandits were trying to force open.

“I’ll deal with this,” replied Maxmillian.

“Outsiders! State your name and business immediately!”

There was a brief moment of silence, before a gruff male voice called back.

“You Beovhan?!”

“That’s not Beovhan you jackass. Oi! You gonna let us in, or do we have to bust yer wall down again?”

Maxmillian could feel his temper flare as his teeth gritted.

“I’ll say this one more time only. State your name and business. If you fail to provide that information in the next five seconds, I’ll have you executed on the spot!”

“We’re acquaintances of Mr and Mrs Augustus,” came a smooth, silky voice from the other side.

“We have business with them. However, upon seeing the state of this town, what with the damaged crops and ruined rooftops and caved in wall, we have become concerned. If you would kindly open this door, I’m certain we can become better acquainted and discuss things like civilised people.”

Maxmillian pondered on that information for a moment, before gesturing to the three edmihumans to open the gate.

“Open the gate and let me out to speak with them.”

They shot him hesitant looks, but complied nonetheless.

“Ah, thank you for your hospitality,” began the same cultured voice, but Maxmillian was already walking outside to block the outsiders entry in.

“You are not welcome inside these premises. This is private property, and you are trespassing. Now state your relationship to Mr and Mrs Augustus now.”

Everyone bristled at Maxmillian’s clipped voice.

His eyes wandered around to everyone present, making note of the people present and the threat they posed.

So far, there were ten men, all sporting an array of sheathed melee weapons and dressed in leather tunics and basic armour. Their grizzled features stood out to him, indicating there was some fighting experience amongst them, not that it would amount to much.

Behind them were two horse-drawn carriages, much like the ones Reginold came in several weeks prior.

However, what stood out the most was the man at the forefront, sporting white, fur robes, jewellery and a clean shaven head and face.

He had a lean build with toned muscles, if his exposed chest was any indicator. A scimitar was sheathed, hanging from his left leg.

The man had a charming smile as he curtsied a small bow.

“Ah, my name is Marcus Deoubre. We’re here to collect the 40,000 Gold that Beovhan owes us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be three weeks out (February 26th). I hate leaving things on a cliff-hanger like this, but the pacing and word count kinda dictates it was the better choice to make, especially for what's in store next chapter. Next update will be on February 27th, and this time hopefully earlier in the day too. See you all then, take care and stay safe!


	16. Frenemies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to the latest instalment of The Domino Effect. Now, some quick announcements before we begin.
> 
> This chapter was meant to be uploaded over 12 hours ago, and it was ready to, but my internet was not really working. Ugh. I couldn’t access anything. So, if you’re wondering why the chapter is a couple hours late, it’s not because I forgot or anything, just technology being a pain. But, here it is, finally!
> 
> This is the somewhat sad news. Things are officially busy on my end, so I currently I’m not going to be maintaining a regular update schedule. I have no idea how wacked it will be, but expect longer delays. I’ll try to keep you updated in the interim. I’ll post an author’s note on 1st April to keep you appraised of when the next update will be, but it will likely be two months. By April, I should have a fairly good idea of my schedule, so I’ll inform you then. I’ll keep working on the chapters in the mean time, so no, I’m not abandoning this story. I would like to do a monthly chapter update, but we’ll see. I might be able to return to it after the next update, but be aware it could be up to two months before I post another chapter. Or not, who knows? That’s why I’ll appraise you all on the 1st April, and no it won’t a cruel April Fool’s joke. This is a lot of the reason why I wanted to get this chapter out now before things get really busy, since my studies are starting now. I ended on a bit of a cliffhanger last chapter and I wanted to resolve that before I step away for a bit. Anyways, moving on, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and hopefully it resolves a lot of the stuff set up last chapter

**Chapter 16: Frenemies**

Everyone stared at Sygil, Aries and the other Order members tensely. For the first time in her life, Gallheia felt she was truly witness to something much greater and more pressing than her.

Sygil felt a snarl form across his face as he glared at Aries, the inky black flames that were dancing around his hand and Gallheia’s face nought but mere seconds ago dying down.

“An Angel,” chuckled Sygil almost crazily, his low voice causing everyone to pause in uncertainty. Even Hans was shooting him a cautious glance.

“An Angel? Hehehe. Just my fucking luck! A damned, Exalted Angel. It seems no matter where I go, you freaks are always there.”

Aries’ narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t deny it then,” she reaffirmed.

“Deny what, exactly?” Grinned Sygil savagely. Beneath his psychotic features that he was masquerading lie a tumultuous storm of emotions.

_Shit! This isn’t good. I have no idea how many of these pricks there are. Numbers aren’t on my side, and they know the lay of the land much better than I do._

There was also the more obvious added concern of his Holy injury. The last thing he needed was to take another hit from a Blessed weapon. Hans might fare a better chance since he technically wasn’t an Unholy being, but even though he was ranked high in terms of Yggdrasil levels, facing an Angel from the real-world would prove a challenge in its own right. And right now, Sygil feared the odds were stacked against him. He was in the lion’s den, and there was no way out without fighting.

_NO! I refuse to be beaten! I WILL prevail. These fuckers will be dead by the time I leave!_

However, the sombre reality he was quick to return himself to was that he was at a disadvantage. All he could do was stall for time as he tried to formulate a plan for escape.

“Blasted demon,” shot Valera with contempt, answering Aries question. Sygil didn’t bother to deny it. The Order members and him knew the truth. They were Angels, and he was a Demon. Conflict was inevitable. Unless…?

Tightening his grip on Gallheia’s throat, he quickly hoisted her up, pinning her against his chest as a shield and hostage against Aries and her cohort. Meanwhile, his free hand summoned his handgun, where he levelled it against Gallheia’s forehead.

Aries’ eyes widened a fraction in surprise, before they hardened. Meanwhile, all of the Order members took several steps forth to surround him, quickly drawing their weapons.

Hans was quick to unsling the rifle gifted to him, aiming it the Angels. Trisha and Aerus were less certain, and clutched the hilt of their own swords, conflicted between their loyalty to Sygil, and their faith in the Messengers of Gods.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Tutted Sygil, waving his gun around.

“One wrong move, and Queen bitch here gets her brains plastered everywhere. And then you’ll be next to join her.”

_That_ seemed to cause the Order members to hold back temporarily, but the situation volatile and deteriorating by the second.

“Unhand her, now!” Commanded Aries. Whatever her grudge with Gallheia, the Demon had to take precedence.

“No! You don’t make demands from me! Back the fuck off right! You only get one warning!”

His mind racing, Sygil looked at his situation realistically.

There were approximately thirteen armoured Angels, including Aries and Valera. There could be more, but the ones he could see were likely going to be a handful as it was.

_I won the trial, meaning that by honour alone, the demihumans are now under my command._ However, he had no assurance they would follow him loyally.

_I have no choice._

“I won the duel, therefore I am the recognised leader of this tribe, and all of its constituents are honour-bound to me.”

Valera roared with fury, her voice putting shame to Vessie’s own psychotic voice from back in the day.

“Honour be damned! You’re a demon! By that alone the duel is invalid!”

“I won it honourably, and the conditions were agreed upon, were they not?” he gritted out irritably.

“They were,” spoke Trisha, who suddenly found all eyes upon her, ranging from Aries perplexed and Valera’s furious.

Sygil, for the most part, felt pleasantly surprised by her words.

“Demons have no honour,” retorted Aries with a distant frown.

Sygil sniped back with fervour. “And neither do Angels!”

“My loyal followers!” Wheezed out Gallheia, surprising everyone, her voice managing to break through Sygil’s strong grip on her throat somehow.

“They are not your followers anymore, so shut up!” He emphasised his distaste by pressing the barrel of his gun into her temple with substantial force, causing her to wince painfully. However, she willed herself to push through the pain, and with a raw voice, spoke through her constricted airway.

“Rally together, and fight -!”

Sygil tuned her rasping out as he suddenly realised what she was attempting to do.

_She’s trying to undermine my victory and turn my own forces against me!_

Acting on pure instinct, he pulled the trigger, and her voice cut out. The gunshot rang out, it’s metallic reverberation echoing around the wooden and stone structures, with the only other sound quickly fading being the splash of flesh and blood.

Then, there was silence as he held Gallheia’s corpse, three-quarters of her skull missing and dripping blood and gore, a faint wisp of smoke trailing from the barrel.

It only took but a second for him to realise what he had actually done.

_Well… shit. There goes the hostage negotiations._

No sooner had the realisation come across him did Aries and the other Order members react.

With speed belonging to supernatural beings, they charged forth with their blades, intent on skewering him.

Dropping Gallheia’s corpse, he melded into the shadows, reappearing next to Hans.

In unison, they both trained their guns on the Angels, and opened fire.

Caught off-guard by Sygil’s teleportation trick, several Angels had their backs exposed to him when he reappeared.

The semiautomatic handgun barked out in rapid succession whilst the lever-action roared to life with thunderous crackshots, broken by the metallic cycling of each new round and the twang of an expended casing.

Most of the shots didn’t hit their mark. Instead, Sygil was focused on sheer suppressive volume. The effect was as desired however.

Several of the older demihumans cried out for the children and younger ones to be taken to safety, whilst the remaining able-bodied warriors quickly fled to nearby cover, narrowly avoiding grave injury or even death.

That didn’t stop several stray bullets from grazing or hitting non-vital regions of the crowd. However, they weren’t the targets.

The Angels quickly brought up their shields, or those that had them equipped at least did, in an attempt to deflect the volley of bullets.

To Sygil’s surprise, the shields did appear to work, likely suggesting that they were Blessed, or some other Holy nonsense. However, the shields were not large enough to protect the whole body, and the bits of exposed flesh and body were subject to the Unholy rounds. Even the shields were dented by the rounds.

Several of the Angels let out cries of pain, caught by surprise by the bullets tearing through their vambraces and blowing flesh and blood everywhere.

Sygil and Hans didn’t relent in their onslaught.

“Shit,” cursed Hans. “Situations gone FUBAR, sir!”

“I can see that. We need to regroup. We’ve caught them by surprise, but they’ll regenerate their wounds, and then we’ll be doubly fucked.”

“So why don’t we use High Tier magic and level this place with them in it?”

“I still want my army, Hans!” he snapped.

“Right, sorry sir!”

Suddenly, they both found themselves besieged by arrows being fired by several of the Angels.

_What the…?_

“Eight-O’clock sir! Two shooters!”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Han’s description. “Archers are hardly what I would term an active shooter.”

Still, if the arrows were Holy, then perhaps the threat would be warranted.

_Oh well. It’s not like I’m going to give these bastards a chance._

And true to his intentions, the bullets kept the Angels at bay, preventing them from getting in close. A couple arrows were returned, but the suppressive fire chipping away at wooden structures and stone that they were taking cover behind made it difficult. Sygil dared to be hopeful.

_Maybe this will be easier than I thought?_

“Trisha! Aerus! Round up the other demihumans and return to the base!”

However, before he could get a reply, Murphy’s Law struck with the force of a hammer.

Or rather, Aries drop-kick did.

He felt the breath within him knocked clean out as he crashed to the ground, his gun flying into the dirt.

He was too stunned to even wonder where she came from. However, he was not alone in his struggles as suddenly Hans found himself contending with Valera who had manoeuvred behind him, engaging him in melee combat. He found himself using the rifle as a shield to parry against her sword strikes. Meanwhile, given the sudden reprieve, the other Angels began to advance, surrounding them all to prevent escape.

Sygil paid little heed, however, too focused on trying to avoid being killed.

He barely made contact with the ground when Aries was upon him, her sword brought forth to end his life, the Holy blade reflecting the torch-light.

There was no time to summon a sword to deflect the strike, nor his guns to kill her, so he brought his hands up to catch her sword arm. And just in the nick of time too. However, he found himself pushing with all of his strength in both arms to combat her sheer supernatural strength.

_Yep. Definitely an Angel. Fuck my life._

Stalling her blade would only buy him seconds of life at most, and everyone knew that. So, he rammed his foot fast and hard into her sternum, kicking her back and flinging her off of him with his own supernatural strength.

Using the suddenly newfound freedom, he wasted no time in summoning both of his handguns, bringing them to bear on Aries as she staggered backwards.

He would have to apologise to Maxmillian for taking back the gun he loaned him, but he needed it more at this moment.

He pulled the triggers on both handguns, sending a frenzied storm of Unholy .50 Action Express to kill Aries. Or, he would of, had one the stupid Angels not jumped forth as a voluntary meatshield to protect her from his instruments of death.

Still, that didn’t deter him. If someone was blocking his aim, the only logical choice was to simply shoot through them. Which was exactly what he did.

Blood sprayed towards Aries, who cried out the useless martyr’s name in vain.

“Jaesa!”

He kept slamming the trigger back in each gun, blowing chunks of flesh, armour and bone off of her.

Meanwhile, Hans had his hands full with Valera and three other Angels who were swinging their swords at him in synchronisation.

They were like stage performers, dancing around the blades and working in unison to kill him, but Hans was a performer in his own right. Being in the Level 90’s also meant he had access to many higher-Tier spells and abilities, but he went for the tried and true Fireball, with a mix of enhancing spells to magnify its effects and damage. After all, fire would be more than effective to kill anything that was organic.

Sygil felt his eyes briefly dart to Hans who suddenly exploded in a literal fireball, blowing smoke, dirt and debris everywhere and forcing his assailants to back off to a healthy distance so he could bring the rifle to bear. Even though he was ablaze, he suffered no damage or drawbacks due to his own innate immunity to the spell.

A sword suddenly struck down on both of his wrists in his momentary lapse of attention, the force cracking his hands towards his waist. It was only due to the sheer Yggdrasil levelling granting him somewhat boosted physical protections that his hands didn’t become severed from his arms, but the effect was successful. His guns were knocked down, stopping his assault on Aries.

He glanced at his new opponent, another Angel in the same armour as her fellow warriors, who was currently swinging the sword upwards to take his head off.

Victory would not be gained by playing into the defensive, and he would only find himself drawn out and weakened in a prolonged match, so he dropped into the shadows mere milliseconds before the sword could make contact with his throat, using his shadows to materialise directly behind his new assailant.

Before the Angel could process what had happened, she suddenly found herself tensing as his Unholy sabre penetrated through her stomach, skewering her like a wild pig on a hunt.

Sygil’s victory was as short-lived as the Angel’s surprise, who suddenly reverse-gripped her own sword and thrust the sword hard behind her in an attempt to revenge-skewer him. Even he couldn’t avoid it, underestimating her resolve to kill him.

Fortunately, the blade was not Holy. Add to the fact his Yggdrasil enhancements, and the blade practically bounced off of him.

That didn’t stop Aries from suddenly leaping onto him, tackling him to the ground where they rolled around.

Suddenly, Sygil felt himself being straddled by her as fists rained down onto his face. His head repeatedly cracked down onto the ground, and he could feel his vision going dizzy from the repeated monster blows.

He tried to grab her arms to stop the attacks, but she managed to deflect them. She brought one more heavy punch right into his temple, and this time he felt something crack underneath as blood shot out his nose.

However, he had no time to think about that, and instead brought his knee up into her tailbone in an attempt to knock her off of him.

His knee struck the armoured plates dangling from her waist, but the carried momentum was enough to dislodge her, and so he brought his other leg under her and propelled her off his body like a failed grenade from a mortar.

She hit the ground on her back, her head facing his as he bounced up, adopting a defensive stance as he prepared to square off against her. Seeing no immediate threat, he summoned a handgun, and outstretching his gun hand, opened fire on her prone figure.

Understanding how deadly the weapon was, Aries was quick to roll over o her side continuously, only narrowly avoiding being hit, the dirt where she was mere milliseconds ago erupting in violent plumes from the impacts.

Suddenly, a glowing golden chain rapidly wrapped around his gun hand, smoke hissing as it burnt through to his flesh, causing him to drop his gun in pain.

He glanced in the direction of the chain’s origins, and saw another Angel grimacing as she held onto the chain, her helmet casting deep shadows onto her straining face.

In painful instinct, Sygil tugged the chain in the opposite direction to pull out of the chain, or at least trip the Angel up, but she was strong and held fast.

Aries took advantage of the opening to leap up, summoning her sword, bringing it to bear on Sygil’s exposed flank.

He barely had time to react, summoning a sabre up to deflect the strike. However, the force of the strike was too much for him to fully stop in is state, and while the sabre saved his life in that moment, Aries’ strike sent it flying out of his hand just as quickly as he summoned it.

By now, he could feel the chain burning into his flesh, the cursed Holy weapon.

_Fuck it._

Before Aries could bring her sword to bear on him, Sygil’s exposed arm erupted into shadows, his hounds roaring forth in rage, teeth snapping.

The first one made contact with Aries breast-plate, knocking her back. The second hound latched its teeth onto the vambrace of her sword arm, denting the metal.

The third hound leapt for her face.

“NO!” Sygil could make out one of the Angel’s screaming in protest as the hound tore into Aries’ face.

With one final gritted scream, Sygil tugged the chain one last time, finally freeing his arm from the blasted weapon.

The Angel holding the chain fell face-first, while traces of Sygil’s own blood sprayed as the chain came undone.

“Look out sir!”

Sygil could just make out Hans, who was suddenly being pinned down by five different Angels. However, his head snapped to Aries, only to just see her throw her sword towards him like a throwing knife.

His eyes widened in surprise and ducked down in an attempt to avoid being struck, but he wasn’t fast enough.

The blade for the most part soared overhead, but the tip managed to slice through his jacket and graze his infected left shoulder.

The Holy injury flared up, reacting with Aries Holy blade.

_SHIT!_

However, he had to push through the pain of his Holy injury being reawakened as Aries charged forth, the shadow hounds still clinging to her.

_How is she still intact?!_

The answer, however, lie directly in her armour, which while damaged and dented, still didn’t give under the strain. The hound supposedly latched onto her face in actuality had its teeth engulfing the helmet instead, so other than the pressure from a slowly crushing helmet, Aries’ face was otherwise intact.

Sidestepping Aries, he summoned his spiked chain and struck her across her exposed back, denting steel plate and knocking it off, and ripping the leather, exposing bloodied flesh. She let out a grunt as she hit the ground.

_She can’t see?_

The hound latched onto her face was blocking her vision, meaning – “AGH!”

The sudden scream erupting from Hans captured his attention, just in time to see his subordinate get impaled by five separate swords through his spine, stomach, throat and chest.

Hans’ eyes went wide with shock as blood leaked from his mouth, nose and wounds.

_What?! Impossible! How?! Hans is well over Level 90, so he should be immune to their attacks?_

If his recollection of Yggdrasil stats and immunities was correct, anyways. It was limited, but the principle was that he should be immune to such melee attacks. After all, the sword strike intended to dismember his hands failed, most likely due to his own Yggdrasil immune stats. However, the sword Aries threw cut into him easily, and the Holy chain cast by the Angel bypassed those stats as well, directly attacking his Unholy nature…

_The Holy weapons bypass all stats…._ He suddenly realised.

_But that means…_ he realised with dread.

Hans’ Tier magic didn’t work on the Angels because they were immune to such attacks, just as their Holy weapons bypassed the Yggdrasil defences stats. Essentially, they were majorly overpowered, and Hans would have no chance against them unless he was packing Unholy armaments, like his rifle.

“Hans!” He cried out, but it was useless, as Hans collapsed to the ground, his eyes slowly closing, his body failing to stir.

In unison, the five Angels withdrew their Holy swords from his body, blood beginning to pool under him.

“HANS!”

_This isn’t fair! Everything I do, and someone always keeps taking from me!_

By now, rage was fuelling his entire body, blocking out his physical pain.

_My life has been nothing but suffering, wrought about by the cruelty of others._

He tightened his grip on his spiked chain as the shadows around him began to swirl.

_My brothers in arms died by my side, betrayed by our own CO._

The hounds biting into Aries suddenly let go and slinked back to Sygil.

_My own nation betrayed and killed me over a conspiracy cover-up._

The Angels began to surround Sygil warily.

_The government took and killed my own sister just to ensure no-one knew the truth, leaving me to make a pact with the Devil himself. To be a slave!_

Sygil summoned the fallen lever-action into his free hand, smoky tendrils of shadow materialising it.

_And now, every time I try to get free of this curse to see her again, I keep getting set back. By stupid, greedy mortals. By self-obsessed Angels like Asphaestus and now Aries._

A guttural growl escaped from his lips as Aries stood up, calling to her subordinates.

“Don’t engage him! You won’t stand a chance by yourselves! I’ll deal with him myself.”

_It’s always fucking Angels getting in my way…._

“It’s always fucking Angels…”

Aries readied her sword as she prepared to square off against him.

“You cunts are always getting in my way, wherever I go,” he continued, his voice seething.

“Can’t you all take a hint, and fuck off?!”

Aries merely glowered at him with equal disdain.

“That’s a game two can play at, though sadly it’s your move, so I’d implore you to go first. Unless, of course, you’d like me to kill you…”

“Arrogant bitch.”

With that, he swung his spiked chain out overhead to strike Aries, while bringing his rifle up in one hand to bear on her, letting loose a simultaneous shot as she charged forth.

Angel or not, there was no way she could dodge both attacks successfully.

The bullet tore right through her shoulder, knocking her back and slowing her down, and before she could even regain her balance, his chain crashed down onto her, wrapping around her body.

With a vicious tug, he pulled her in with a spin, using the movement to roll the lever-action rifle and cycle it with one hand.

As he finished the motion, he levelled the barrel at Aries’ head, ready to spray her brains everywhere. Or at least, that was the intention.

Suddenly, he found a Holy chain wrapped around his own throat, the chain burning into his flesh with a hiss.

He let out a strangled gargle as he was pulled back, the gun being aimed haphazardly. He could make out Valera and two other Angels tugging on the chain, pulling him back.

In a fit of desperation, he hoisted the rifle over his shoulder to aim at them from behind, and fired.

The resulting rifle crack nearly blew his ear-drums out in his weakened state, especially since the gun was literally resting against his ear.

He didn’t see if anyone was hit, but he assumed so judging by the sudden scream and the chain going slack, allowing him just enough time to rip the chain free from his throat. However, his own chain went slack, allowing Aries to get free, who wasted no time in leaping overhead with her sword in hand, intent on killing him.

There was no time to dodge, so he had to take the hit.

Then Aries exploded in a ball of fire.

_WHAT?!_

The mystery was suddenly solved when Hans’ peeved voice rang out.

“Now you’ve done and gone pissed me off,” he spat vehemently, clutching his unsheathed sabre.

With the exception of the blood staining his ripped uniform, he appeared otherwise fine as he strode forth.

“Impossible,” murmured an Angel.

“You dare try and harm the Supreme Being?! That is a punishable offense so severe that not even death is sufficient.”

Several of the Angels rounded on him, clutching their own swords and ready to do combat with him.

“Hans!” Bellowed Sygil.

“Go all out!”

Hans nodded with grim determination. “Of course sir.”

The whistle of steel in the air was the only warning Sygil got from Aries’ sword strike. Dodging the initial strike, he took a step backwards to bring the rifle up to bear on her, however she moved into close the distance.

Weaving out of her slashes was challenging, if one took into account her exceptional speed and strength, but after a couple seconds, he finally managed to put enough distance between them to let loose a shot. Until she deflected it with her sword, the round leaving a sizeable dent as it ricocheted off.

_Oh what the fuck!_

He cycled another round before firing, and Aries deflected that one too as she charged forth. This time, he didn’t have time to cycle another round, so he tossed the gun right into her face in an attempt to knock her off her feet, or at least slow her down, but she barrelled through it.

As she swung, he reach out and slammed the palms of his gloved hands against either side of the flat of the blade, holding it in place before pushing it upwards. Forced into a stalemate mere inches from each-others’ faces, Sygil summoned his hounds which quickly surrounded Aries.

He let loose a small grin. “Looks like you’re dog-food now.”

The only choice for Aries would be to sprout her wings and fly upwards, but even then, the hounds would be on her too quickly.

Still, instead of flying, she just straight-out summersaulted over his head, pulling he sword with her and flipping him onto his back. However, shooting his foot out he caught himself before spinning, summoning his own sabre and swinging sideways to bisect her as she landed.

Steel clanged loudly as the two blades met, Holy versus Unholy.

Aries swung out a haymaker with her free hand, aimed at his bruising temple.

The blow connected, sending stars through his head.

However, his hounds came to his rescue, attacking Aries from behind.

Standing up slowly, Sygil chuckled lowly as he spat a gob of blood.

“What’s the matter? Having a hard time with my pets? Why don’t you just sprout your damn wings and piss off, huh?”

Aries tsked at him as she danced around the shadow hounds, blood pouring from her shoulder.

Suddenly, she became basked in light from within.

_Oh fuck, she’s regenerating!_

Without even thinking, he rushed forth with his sabre and collided into her, knocking her to the ground face first. Before she could properly regenerate, he thrust the sabre deep into her injured shoulder, literally pinning her to the ground.

She let loose an agonised scream.

“Aries!” cried Valera, before aborting her fight with Hans and rushing over to attack Sygil. However, his hounds blocked the path suddenly, pouncing onto Valera in an attempt to gore her.

He could briefly make out the shock on her face when her blade went right through the shadow hounds with no effect, before they were suddenly upon her.

Satisfied that the Angels were occupied with Hans and his numerous hounds, he placed a knee harshly into the small of her back, before grabbing her uninjured arm and pulling it behind her back roughly.

Aries let loose a soft cry of pain as her back was forced to arch from the sudden tension.

“You fucking freaks are everywhere I go, I swear,” he gritted out.

“Get the hell off of me, right now!” She snarled.

“Why don’t you fly off already,” he spat.

_The second she spawns her wings, I’m clipping them._

Her response was to slam the heel of her boot in an upwards arc right into his kidney.

“Ow, you little shit,” he grunted.

He doubled down on the pressure.

“Call off your Angels, or I’ll kill you and them.”

“Hasn’t worked so far, has it,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

Frowning, he glanced at the ripped gerkin and torn flesh underneath, courtesy of his spiked chain from earlier.

With his free hand, he jabbed his fingers into several of the puncture wounds, before clenching his hand into a fist tugging. The whole time, Aries let loose an agonised scream.

“Less defiance, more compliance,” he growled. However, at that moment, he felt something strange between Aries’ shoulder blades. Ignoring her voice, he grasped the back of her gerkin and tore it open wider, revealing, aside from the obvious puncture wounds, two small fleshy stumps that were heavily scarred, faint traces of white fur that would develop into feathers.

“You’ve been clipped…” he muttered absent-mindedly.

He inadvertently eased some of his pressure on her, and she snapped at him.

“Get your fucking hands off of me you bastard!”

He ignored her as his features softened ever so slightly, adopting a light chuckle.

“I get it now. You’re not an Angel anymore, are you. You’ve been disgraced. You’re a Fallen Angel! And so is every one of these Order members that follow you! HAHAHA!”

“FUCK OFF,” she spat venomously.

With that comment, he grabbed the back of her helmet to pull her head as far back as possible, before slamming it into the ground as hard as he could.

There was an audible gasp as the air left her, and before she could recover, he stepped off of her, hoisting her up by the nape of leather gerkin, ignoring the tears in the back of it as well as the blood oozing everywhere. Simultaneously, he ripped his sabre from her shoulder.

As soon as she was on her two feet, albeit dazed, he wrapped his arm around her throat to constrict her and keep her pinned close against his chest.

_Now I have a hostage…_ And apparently just in time, as a glance revealed Hans’ sabre placed at one Angel’s throat, while another Angel had her own sword placed against his throat.

However, he wasn’t the one to call out, and neither were the Angels.

“Everybody! STOP!”

It was Trisha. Aerus stood beside her.

“Sygil, let Aries go! Valera, please don’t hurt Hans!”

Miraculously, somehow, all the Angels paused and glanced at Trisha, as did Hans and Sygil.

“Sorry Trisha, but the Fallen Angel is going to be insurance. So, Valera. Do as the lady says and let go of my subordinate, and I won’t hurt your boss. Anymore.”

“Let her go, now!” Retorted Valera coldly, tightening the pressure of her blade on Hans’ throat.

“Get that fucking blade off my throat now,” snarled Hans.

“Please, Valera, just let him go. Sygil’s not as bad as you think he is,” pleased Trisha.

“He’s a bloody Demon!” Shot Aries.

“But he did save us. He hasn’t done anything bad to us, really,” she continued. Sygil was impressed at her defence of him, somewhat even surprised considering how sceptical she always seemed about him.

“He is tricking you!” Shot Valera.

“No he isn’t,” interjected Aerus.

“Aerus. You – “

“No.” Cut off Aerus.

“The whole time he has been honest with his intentions. He hasn’t strayed from them at all, and he has honoured his deal. We are free now. He let us choose. Something… something that Gallheia has never done before.”

“Aerus. Listen to yourself. He is a DEMON! He will sweet-talk you into whatever he wants.”

“And what he wants, is an army. An army he has won, as according to the terms of the duel,” retorted Trisha.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Came Aries’ questioning voice. Sygil kept a firm hold on her, but still she spoke.

“What purpose would he have with an army?! Most certainly not a good one.”

“And Gallheia did?” It took Trisha a second for her to realise how disrespectful her tone was with Aries, and her eyes widened in shock as she stammered out an apology.

“I-I meant no disrespect.”

Valera’s face contorted into a scowl, but Aries’ slightly softened.

“I know you have lost faith in Gallheia. And I won’t lie and say it wasn’t for good reason, but a Demon always has a plan and an intention to sow harm and chaos. Speaking of Demons,” her voice hardened as her eyes glanced to Sygil, or at least as best as she could get them to.

“If you’d mind releasing me, I’d very much appreciate it.”

“Not a chance,” he replied sweetly.

“Please, no more violence,” implored Aerus.

“Well, when _she_ ,” Sygil nodded his head towards Valera, “releases my subordinate, as well as puts away her weapons, _then_ I’ll consider it. But first, Aries. Answer me this.”

“Go to hell,” she shot.

“Hehe. Already been there sweetheart.”

“Call me that again, and I’ll rip yours out with my bare hands.”

“Oh please, it’s a term of endearment. You have piqued my interest after all.”

“Great, you’re a regular freak on top of being Demon,” she spat.

“Hardly,” he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“No, I have to know. Are you really a Fallen Angel?”

“Let me go. Now.” Gritted out Aries.

“The question first,” he prodded, tightening his chokehold on her.

“You already seem to know the answer to that,” she scowled.

At that, Sygil couldn’t help but let loose an amazed laugh.

“Wow. You really are, then. Aren’t you?!”

“Just let me go already, Demon.”

“Let my subordinate go first, and put away your weapons. I’m not as interested in fighting Fallen Angels anyways.”

Aries rolled her eyes, before tilting her head to Valera to comply. Valera shot her an incredulous look before complying, albeit reluctantly.

Hans lowered his sabre once Valera’s was released from his throat, and after a cautious glance at Sygil, moved to his side.

Satisfied, Sygil released the pressure on Aries arm, intent on letting her go, but she forcefully ripped herself from him, but not before cracking her elbow into his nose as hard as she could.

He staggered back from the blow, the resounding crack audible for all to hear.

“Ow, what the fuck?!” His muffled voice spat out as he grabbed his face.

“That was for jabbing your hand into my back,” she sniped, quickly distancing herself from him.

“Well aren’t you a cheery little bitch,” he groused, shooting a glare at her as the Angels regrouped together.

“All I want is my army, as promised. I have no interest in fighting you, seeing as you’re Fallen Angels,” began Sygil.

“Hmm. Assuming I let you have the tribe, what are your intentions with them, then?”

Sygil rolled his eyes as his hounds formed around him, dancing between his legs and merging in and out of the shadows agitatedly.

“I fail to see how that is any concern of yours. It’s not like you are tagging along.”

“Considering your manipulative nature and desire for conflict, I think it is, actually,” frowned Aries, placing a hand on her hip as she massaged her shoulder that he had impaled earlier.

“Besides, you’re being uncharacteristically talkative. Rather strange for a Demon, when faced with his arch nemesis, an Angel.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stereotype? Besides, it’s not like you are an actual Angel anymore. Disgraced Angels that fall from God’s graces are even more wretched than a mere heretical being as myself. After all, I was forever deigned to be an abomination. You, however, chose the path of sin, and lost any and all virtues. A choice, when faced with an option. That makes you a failure amongst your true Angelic peers. Falling from grace is more shameful and disgusting than being born into it, after all.”

Sygil’s grin as he spoke only served to further irk the Fallen Angels, who expressed visible contempt across their features, especially Valera.

“I believe I’m just parroting Asphaestus’ words, and probably every other Angel I’ve had the displeasure to meet, but it is what they say. So, suffice to say, you’re all alone in this big bad world. Self-preservation is better suited to your interests than quarrelling with little old me, here.”

“Spare me your patronising, Demon. Why do you seek to speak now, instead of continue fighting,” growled Valera, her hand itching to draw her sword again.

Sygil straightened himself, adjusting his tie properly whilst glancing disinterestedly at his ripped sleeve.

“Because it’s apparent to me that, while I doubt we would be allies, especially with someone as insufferable as you, I highly doubt we need to be explicit enemies. If we’re here, then it’s safe to say that your old Angel pals, such as Asphaestus, could show up. So long as you stay out of my way, then I fail to see the need to fight you.”

“We’re better suited as bait against any Angels that arrive, is what you’re saying,” frowned Aries, sounding nonplussed.

“Essentially,” shrugged Sygil.

“My interests are only in having this tribe as an army. If any Angels arrive, they’ll be more inclined to zero in on those disgraced from their ranks like you lot. We wouldn’t have to deal with each-other ever again, hopefully.”

Aries, for the first time, let loose a steady chuckle, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Oh, this is rich. A Demon, actually attempting to negotiate a peaceful deal with us Angels, and thinking you can walk away with our own warriors at that as well?! You’re a bold one, to say the least if you’re not stupid.”

“Let me remind you, that you no longer qualify as an actual Angel anymore. And also, they are _my_ warriors now. I won the duel as per the conditions set, and now, this tribe belongs to me. What you think is irrelevant.”

Valera sent a sneer his way. “You’re the insufferable one, _Demon_.” The last word was spat with distaste, as if it were poison.

“Sygil, please don’t antagonise them. They are respectable warriors and divine messengers,” pleased Trisha with seeming reverence for the Fallen Angels.

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t know were on a first name basis now. Besides, they’re hardly what I would call respectable. They aren’t divine messengers. They’re disgraced. They went against god and their Exalted order. Why else are you clipped,” by now he was directing his words back to Aries.

“Unless you’re just that weak,” he finished.

As he spoke, several of the other demihumans from the crowd, elders and warriors alike, began to cautiously approach.

Valera took an enraged step forward.

“Excuse me?! You dare insinuate- “

“Calm down, Valera,” sighed Aries, signalling for the other woman to stop, before turning to face Trisha and Aerus.

“Why do you really follow him? He is a Demon. He’ll only abuse you for his own lusts and desires.”

“Maybe, but he has fulfilled his promises to us, and his demands were simple. Loyalty to him for an army,” began Trisha. The show of support was honestly warming to Sygil. It would make his job actually keeping his new army hopefully easy. All he had to do was deal with the Fallen Angels.

“You foolish child,” snapped Valera.

“You would sell yourself to such a despicable entity as this… _thing?!_ ”

“No you’re the foolish one,” snapped Aerus, her reverent demeanour from earlier fully dissipated.

Valera was left almost gaping at her in surprise.

“You chastise us for selling ourselves to him, yet all we have been is slaves to Gallheia. And what did we get at the end of that? Nearly a decade of imprisonment, torture and suffering, with no hope of respite or rescue.”

Aries spoke up. “Aerus, I know you have grievances, but-“

“No! Leaving us, especially the young ones, to suffer as we did at the hands of those humans, when you could have done something, but chose not to, is the reason I have lost faith in you.”

“Gallheia prevented us from doing anything-“ protested Aries.

“Since when did the Messengers of God become servants to a mere tribal leader?! How can any of us have faith in you when you place internal politics over divine justice and righteousness?!”

Sygil had to admit, he was pleasantly surprised at the tongue-lashing that Aerus was giving the Fallen Angels. It was amazing to watch the complete change in attitude she had undergone upon witnessing Gallheia’s folly for herself.

The Fallen Angels all looked equally stunned, whether at the outburst, or the harsh reality behind her words, Sygil didn’t know.

“Perhaps Sygil is a Demon, and maybe he will cast us aside. However, he has given us actual freedom and purpose beyond the blind faith that you and Gallheia keep spouting.”

“Blasphemy,” growled Valera.

“You would side with Demon and his honeyed words over true justice and honour?!”

“And what honour would that be?” Questioned Trisha.

_Oooh. This is getting juicy_ , thought Sygil gleefully, enjoying the internal schism beginning to unfold.

“He has won the duel, and is therefore the new tribe leader. You are honour-bound to recognise and respect the conditions you enforced. Otherwise, what little faith we have in you might as well be truly lost forever.”

“So you would throw yourselves in with him, knowing full aware of what his race alone is capable of, let alone the fact he is a Demon,” questioned a Fallen Angel standing beside Valera.

“I have more faith in him than I do in you,” retorted Aerus.

The demihumans nearby that had been listening finally began to speak up, starting with an old one, covered in numerous wrinkles.

“And what assurance do we have that he is truly as honourable as you claim him to be?”

“Well, she’s alive, healthy and in one piece after years of labour, rape and torture, so I suppose that counts for something,” commented Sygil offhandedly.

The Fallen Angel spoke up incredulously.

“Are seriously contemplating joining him?!”

“Hmmm,” sighed the elder.

“These young ones do make valid points. Besides, as much as I loathe him for what he is, he did win the duel. To go back on our word is to forsake our honour. Something we should never do,” she shook her head sagely.

“Listen to yourselves,” started Valera.

“There is no honour in serving a Demon! Have you already forsaken your values and honour?!”

“Well when did you?” Challenged another older demihuman.

“What did you say,” growled another Fallen Angel.

“You’ve long stopped serving as a Messenger for God, guiding us down the path of righteousness. Instead, you have prostrated yourselves before Gallheia and her every whim. While the values you have taught us are incredibly important, the fact that you forsake your duties to serve at her every beck and call does call into question our faith into you. Now, I’m not saying we doubt you. All of the young ones have faith, of that I’m certain, but for those us in my age group, we see things, and we pay attention. When did you lose your honour?” The woman didn’t raise her voice or act disrespectful in any capacity, but the words cut deep.

Aries, to say the least, was stunned.

“Do… you really doubt us?”

The elder smiled comfortingly.

“No. I don’t doubt you. I don’t think any of us really do. But some of us do question Gallheia’s choices, and how you and your order would play to her whim. Some of us would just like to know that it was Gallheia that was straying from the honourable path, and not those that we hold to such high esteem.”

But then, she adopted a slightly more serious tone.

“While we will always respect your choices, if you refuse to validate this human as the honourable winner, regardless of his origins, then it could raise into question the very faith in your values of honour and justice you have instilled into us. Such a dilemma could very well prove catastrophic for the faith in our system.”

Another elder interjected, obviously with more disdain towards Sygil.

“Of course, we can also see the merit behind why you would refuse this… human. An induction into our ranks would also be catastrophic, as it goes against our very sacred teachings that you have instilled into us. The race of men are evil, after all. Trisha and Aerus are, after-all, a living testament to their cruelty.”

Sygil felt himself frown.

_Hmm. Note to self. Arrange for an accident for this one in the near future._

“Then, how about a compromise,” suggested Trisha.

“Sygil is the honourable winner, so we are all honour-bound to serve him. However, The Order can act as mediators, to ensure that our values are not compromised…”

Sygil scrunched up his nose before Trisha could even finish, like a petulant child. “Absolutely no way in hell am I working with a bunch of Fallen Angels.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” hissed Valera.

“Wait, Sygil. Please, all I’m saying is – “

He didn’t listen, however, cutting Trisha off.

“I was trying to be nice when I said I didn’t want to work with these Fallen Angels, but let me put it in terms better understood. Going out of my way to kill them is an inconvenience, one which I can oblige if need be, but one I’d rather not waste time on. Fallen Angels are only slightly better than Angels in my books, but are, frankly, just as pathetic.”

“And somehow, Demons are better?”

Sygil adopted an almost forlorn look on his face as his voice softened.

“Not really. Frankly, I think both sides are equally fucked in their own right. But at least Demons are not so conceited to believe they are morally superior when their actions are just as contradictory as Angels.”

“We’re not conceited,” gritted Aries.

“I beg to differ,” he snapped back.

“You feed on the souls of people, preventing them from reaching Purgatory to face judgement and respite. Your whole existence is an abomination, based on sacrilege. I’m sorry, but you are the definition of evil.”

Sygil sneered at the Angel, his hand twitching, ready to summon his gun in his state of irritation.

“Yet somehow waging a genocidal crusade on anyone and everyone not _pure_ enough to your godly standards isn’t evil. Hmm, the hypocrisy reeks with this one.”

Aries felt her temper snap.

“All humans do is destroy, kill, and cause suffering, wherever they go. No matter how many times they are forgiven, no matter how many chances they are graced, no matter how many times they are taught, they still revert to their selfish and cruel ways. All they know, is war, death, and destruction. That is all they thrive on. Ask me how I know.”

“I know damn well how cruel humans can be. Yet, there is potential. Innocence in the young, for instance, which if cultivated, could guide the whole race down a path of enlightenment.”

Aries scoffed whilst Valera gawked.

“Excuse me?! And what would you know about enlightenment?”

“I know the cost of a _lack_ of enlightenment. That is something I can do, for humanity.”

Aries felt her features tighten as she stared apprehensively at Sygil.

“If you are capable of such enlightenment, then why do you leech off of them, then?”

“Why should I be the one to help them. They look up to God, and Angels, as a source of hope, and inspiration. It’s not my fault you fail to deliver that. I just simply do what I can to survive.”

A defeated sigh escaped her lips. “Then you prove my point in exactly why you are a selfish creature.”

“Is that so bad? To simply do what nature has programmed into all of us? Self-preservation is natural. As is having a selfish goal to attain. We all do, after all. How else would we progress from day to day?”

“And what is your goal, exactly,” interjected the more amicable elder.

“Your loyalty,” he stated bluntly.

The elder smiled forlornly, her hair falling over her aged, but wisdom-laced eyes.

“That’s not a goal. That’s just a step in your overall goal. An immediate desire. I asked, what is your goal.”

There was no malice in her words, instead her voice resonated as if she were guiding a lost child.

“My goals are my own business, not yours.”

“Then why should we follow you?” The woman’s coy voice was almost as vexing as Aries, but he would take it over an Angel any day.

“Because you are honour-bound to follow me. I won the duel.”

“Yes, but winning a duel, while honourable, is not enough to instil faith. We have lost faith in Gallheia, and some of us even question The Order, but what reason should we have to put our faith in you instead, an outsider. One, who I might add, is from the very destructive race that we have been warned about.”

Sygil felt at a temporary loss for words. Luckily, Hans answered for him, with the support of Trisha and Aerus.

“Enlightenment. Just as he mentioned his knowledge of it, he has implemented it to inspire and lead our already existing followers. His honour has also seen to the preservation of our members, including your demihuman sisters. What further proof of that can you find than the loyalty inspired in the two standing before you.”

Sygil was immensely grateful for Hans’ words. Or maybe he was grateful that it wasn’t Maxmillian present, who he was certain would have flipped the lid at the ‘disgusting demihumans’.

“Well, I’ve heard of nothing but positive feedback from Trisha and Master Aerus. You two have never lied before, so I’ll put my faith in your word, then. Perhaps I’m more open-minded than the rest of us, but I think we need a change in culture anyways. I’m willing to put my faith in you then. I trust you are as honourable as I have heard.”

The other elder looked on, horrified, and spoke up in protest.

“Kaesha! Surely you don’t mean that?! He wounded several of our warriors, to say nothing ofhis death rampage all those weeks ago.”

“I concur with Hera,” spoke Valera, gesturing to the other elder demihuman woman.

“He’s already shown a propensity towards violence.”

“Oh what would you have me do when my life was threatened,” snapped Sygil.

“Considering your strength as a Demon, I would hardly consider your life threatened by mere mortal warriors, no matter how skilled,” frowned Aries.

“But it was under Gallheia’s conditions,” interjected a third elder demihuman.

“Considering his history for honouring his word, regardless of violence, we are honour-bound.”

Several other demihumans murmured in agreement, though the displeasure of others could be heard.

Sygil’s satisfied smirk was a huge contrast to Aries’ defeated sighed.

“Is that what you all really believe and intend?”

“It is the honourable thing to do,” nodded Kaesha.

Several of the Fallen Angels exchanged grimaces, whilst others shot murderous glares at Sygil.

“Then I guess it’s been decided,” smiled Sygil victoriously.

“The tribe is mine. Now, I may be inconvenienced killing you right now, but I don’t have any qualms if you get in my way. Stay the hell away from me and don’t interfere, and I’ll leave you and your merry band of lost children alone. Capiche?”

However, Aries surprised him with her firm voice.

“No.”

“What?” Sygil’s eyes narrowed, and Hans instinctively placed a hand on his sabre hilt. Tensions began to creep back as the two main parties stared at each other.

“If you think I am going to leave my own warriors to your own devices unsupervised, then think again. Whatever your words, you’re a Demon at the end of the day. I wouldn’t put it past you to sacrifice all of their lives just so you could live to leech an extra day.”

_You stubborn cunt._

“However,” continued Aries. “I’m not as jaded as the likes of Asphaestus as to label everything not in line with the Testaments as blasphemous. I haven’t encountered a Demon as articulate as you, nor one as blatant in their intentions. Whether there is more to them remains to be seen. However, Trisha and Master Aerus are vouching for you, and so it would seem, are several of the tribe elders. My curiosity is piqued, and I wish to see for myself if you are as honourable as you are made out to be. You have surprised me, but I still don’t trust you.”

Sygil felt like a fish out of water, and it took nearly all his will-power to keep his mouth from hanging open stupidly like one.

_Did I just hear her right? A Fallen Angel wants to tag along with me, a Demon, because she thinks I might be honourable?_

“No. Absolutely not,” he shook his head in adamant refusal.

“I’m not having a bunch of Fallen Angels-“

“This isn’t up for discussion,” interjected Valera. “Aries has spoken. Be grateful she hasn’t opted to remove your blasted head.”

“You’re right, this isn’t up for debate,” he growled, clenching his fist.

Aries rolled her eyes as she sighed.

“Regardless of your presence, we,” she gestured to The Order, “have a duty to protect and guide this tribe. If anything, you are an added incentive to our duties. The last thing I need is you to corrupt them, whether you are their anointed leader or not. Something I still think is folly,” she glanced at Trisha and Aerus.

“But I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“You are aware I just killed several your Order members,” his eye twitched in irritation.

“Oh please,” chuckled an Angel.

“You might have put us through the ringer, but even if we’re Fallen Angels, we can still regenerate easily enough. You’ll have to try harder than that to kill us.”

“Duly noted,” frowned Sygil.

_It’s not like I can actually stop them. I’m outnumbered, and their regenerative abilities are a pain in the ass to deal with._

Ultimately, it would be better if he just accepted them into his ranks and dealt with them later when he had the support of Maxmillian and Quantum. After all, the open fight he just came from didn’t do much in terms of damaging their numbers.

_Fucking Angels…_

“I don’t see I have much choice in the matter then, do I.”

“That is the only thing we’ll ever agree on, Demon,” retorted Valera.

Running a hand through his hair and face, he let loose an exasperated sigh.

“Fuck my life.”

* * *

It took two more days before Sygil arrived back at the town of Merigold, or rather what remained of it, now reconverted into the beginnings of a primitive fort.

His entourage had taken a little over a day to prepare food and equipment for the journey.

In total, there were over 400 demihumans, including the elderly and children. That left approximately 300 able-bodied warriors ranging from those just coming of age, to the more senior, but still capable, of their age group.

Trisha and Aerus had advised him that the current state of the base would not be quite suitable for the elders and children to successfully function in currently. He relented and agreed to leave the elderly and children behind along with a generous guard detail of 50 warriors. That left him with 200-250 warriors to take back, a sizeable amount.

Aries, Valera, and five more Order members would accompany Sygil to the base, while the rest remained to watch over others.

Sygil hated having to even associate with the Fallen Angels, but he had no choice. Still, seven was a much more manageable number than the original thirteen. All he needed to do was devise a plan to deal with them.

When they arrived at the base, all of the bodies and loose debris were gone, and a basic wooden perimeter fence had been erected, connecting between the ruined buildings within the town remains.

As they approached the southern gate, the only place where the surrounding walls were the original stone, a demihuman guard called inside the compound for Maxmillian.

“And here we are,” muttered Sygil.

“This is your base of operations?” Aries quirked an eyebrow. “How quaint.”

Sygil ground his teeth and opted to ignore her.

“So, where will we be staying?”

“Preferably six feet under,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” coughed Sygil, more loudly this time.

“Sir! You’ve returned!” Called Maxmillian as the gate opened.

“Yes,” affirmed Sygil as he strode forth, all business now.

“And you have your army as well, by the looks of things?”

“It’s a little bit more complicated than that, but essentially, yes. Mind giving me an update on things here?”

“Of course, sir,” nodded Maxmillian, standing to attention.

“However, before you do,” cut off Sygil, before turning to face Hans.

“Hans. Show everyone around and get them settled into where they will be staying, as well as their duties. Call Quantum up as well so he is brought up to speed.”

“Right away sir. This way, people,” he gestured to the demihumans, who all followed him inside. Aries and the other Fallen Angels waited by the gate entrance, observing Sygil.

“That means you lot as well,” he gestured to the entering demihumans.

Valera looked like she was about to protest, but Aris shook her head subtly, and gestured for everyone else to follow the demihumans. After about a minute, Sygil was alone with Maxmillian. They entered the compound, shutting the gate behind them, before treading towards the mansion slowly.

“Before I begin sir, the handgun you gave to me suddenly vanished the other day sir. I don’t know why, and I do apologise for it sir.”

Sygil looked at him quizzically for a second bfore realisation dawned on him.

“Oh, that? I ended up needing it so I recalled it back. I can give it back if you need it now,” he summoned the gun and offered it grip-first to Maxmillian.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary then sir, but thank you.”

Sygil shrugged as dematerialised the handgun. “Suit yourself then. Now, what was it you have to report?”

“All of the bodies are preserved now, sir. We’re also finishing salvaging the remaining weapons and armour from the fields. The debris is mostly cleared up as well, and the perimeter wall is completed. It’s not as impressive as the last, nor as durable, but it will hold for the time being.”

“That’s good, at least,” sighed a relieved Sygil. Things were starting to look somewhat more optimistic now.

“Unfortunately, there is a problem, sir.”

_I spoke to soon._

“What now?” he groaned.

“A band of criminals stopped by to pay us a visit.”

“Great. Some opportunistic thugs. Did you deal with them?”

“They weren’t opportunists, sir. They were sent on behalf of an organised syndicate to collect 40,000 gold owed by Beovhan, sir.”

“What?!” Alarm bells were going off in Sygil’s head at that.

“What did you do with them?”

“I subdued them, and they’re currently locked in the basement of the mansion. They won’t be causing any troubles or escaping. I haven’t interrogated them properly yet as I figured you would want to hear first-hand from them. However, I did gleam one thing of note from them.”

“What?”

“They’re apparently part of a large syndicate, not just your small-time rabble. They call themselves the Eight Fingers.”

* * *

Aries stared at Quantum with a mixture of surprise and wonder. I t was apparent, after the initial surprise wore off, that he was not a normal being.

Ignoring the heavy metal plating adorning Quantum’s entire body, there was also the fact his voice sounded… off.

Valera must have had the same thoughts as she silently walked up beside her.

“He doesn’t strike me as a natural being. Do you think he is another Demon?”

“I’m not sure.” After a momentary pause, Aries continued. “Keep an eye out on him. I wouldn’t put it past the Demon to try and get rid of us, so stay alert at all times.”

Valera nodded solemnly. “I’ll instruct the others to keep an eye out on the tribespeople to make sure no foul play comes about. Do you want us to intervene should anything occur?”

Aries felt her features mar into a thoughtful frown, before she slowly gazed at her trusted subordinate.

“He is a Demon,” she replied slowly. “No matter what Trisha or the others might think or feel, it is our duty to make sure his evil is curbed. We’ll consider this a test of faith, if we need to intervene at all.”

“And if we must get involved?”

“Then we’ll finish the fight,” she commanded resolutely. Valera met her gaze with her own steely ones.

“Of course…”

* * *

It took several hours of organising the demihumans into suitable roles, alongside the assistance of Hans, before Quantum was ready to report his progress to Sygil.

The original eight demihuman survivors found themselves promoted to greater positions of authority to oversee and guide the newest additions. It was important to have a tiered command structure after all. If the demihumans had any issues or questions, it was important that they could rely it to the next line of authority, not dump every problem directly at the NPCs feet, or worse even disrupt Sygil’s time.

Trisha was still the overall head of the demihumans, and with Aerus as her defacto advisor, she would in turn answer directly to the NPCs and Sygil.

Quantum selected 50 warriors to work in the mines. Another 50 were selected for construction duty, with the remainder assigned tasks as required by Hans or Maxmillian. While their many duties were acting as the latest army, no-one wanted idle workers.

The first order of business Hans would report to Sygil would be a request for new armour and weapons that were up to higher standards.

Quantum had his own report to present concerning production and development, and so agreed to tag along.

So, several hours later, the duo found themselves entering Sygil’s mansion, where they also encountered Maxmillian who was on his way to fetch them apparently.

“Our Lord has an important discussion for the three of us only,” he informed.

Immediately, the trio entered Sygil’s new office room. It was larger than Beovhan’s old one, and had a small balcony and window that overlooked the main road and village. It was also one of the few rooms in the entire building that hadn’t been damaged in the siege.

“Ah, Hans, Quantum, Maxmillian,” exclaimed Sygil, who was seated behind a large, varnished dsk, empty of accessories save a few documents neatly stacked. A couple potted plants sat in the corners behind him, and couple bookshelves adorned the pale wales.

“You requested our presence, sir?” inquired Hans.

“Yes, I did. It concerns a matter of importance. I take it you have reports you wish to detail me on?”

“Yes sir,” nodded Hans, however Sygil continued.

“Unless they detail those Fallen Angels, they will have to wait.”

“Sir?”

Sygil steepled his fingers as he leaned back in the chair.

“Maxmillian has informed me we were paid a visit by a syndicate called Eight Fingers the other day. I have yet to interrogate them for myselves, but if they are a large syndicate with connections to Beovhan, then we may a trouble in the upcoming future. Between them and the nobles, I think it is safe to say, we need to expedite our operations. We are not equipped for another full out siege. However, before we can address that dilemma, there is a more pressing one right in our faces.”

Hans was more in the loop, and answered immediately while Quantum and Maxmillian shot confused glances.

“You’re referring to the Fallen Angels.”

“Precisely,” nodded Sygil gravely.

“Fallen Angels, sir?” Maxmillian tilted his head ever so slightly.

“I’ll explain the details shortly, but essentially, they are a threat, and a very powerful one.”

He leaned forward, a adopting a more serious expression.

“One we need to deal with, and preferably soon.”

“What would you have us do?” droned Quantum.

“Simple,” began Sygil.

“They need to be dealt with, so we are going to arrange for some… _accidents_ to occur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:
> 
> So, like I said, updates are slowing down. I’ll post an author’s note to keep you appraised of when I’ll likely next update by April 1st. I should have a pretty clear idea of where I sit in terms of updating by then, but understand it could be easily two months before you see any new content. I’ll still keep working on the story where possible, though, so now worries! Take care, stay safe, and have fun!


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